


A Life in Shadow

by MoonwalkingCrab



Category: Dredd (2012), Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Awkwardness, Depression, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, Frottage, M/M, Masturbation, Suicidal Thoughts, Supernatural Elements, bookshop au, kylux adjacent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-18
Updated: 2018-01-17
Packaged: 2019-02-16 07:21:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 36,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13049247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoonwalkingCrab/pseuds/MoonwalkingCrab
Summary: Grey. Everything in Matt's life is grey. His only purpose in life is fixing his dad's old car, and even that isn't going well. When he stumbles across a local bookstore though, he finds himself mesmerised by the man inside.His eyes are blue.





	1. Matt

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to my wonderful partner [paper-wings-burn](http://paper-wings-burn.tumblr.com/) for providing me with the prompt that burned my brain into action and brought this story to life. Also to my wonderful beta [Gefionne](http://gefionne.tumblr.com/) who helps polish my words into something that makes more sense.
> 
> Finally to my cheerreaders in the Dude Harem, I could not have done this without you <3

Grey.

Everything around Matt was grey.

Grey skies, grey clouds, grey life. Grey rain that poured on Matt no matter where he went. He kept his head bent, shoes squishing as he wandered through the grey streets of grey concrete. His head was clouded, as it often was, and work hadn’t helped the matter. There was only so much inane babbling he could listen to in a day, even when customers _did_ follow his instructions. But what did he know—he was just tech support, another mindless drone on the other end of a phone call. Even if someone listened to his instructions they never really _heard_ him.

Matt sighed, slowing his pace despite the rain. There was nothing much for him at home; it was just where he went when he wasn’t at work. There was nothing much for him anywhere. The cold drops ran down his neck, chilling his skin and making it prickle. Matt couldn’t bring himself to care.

His time outside of work was spent in the sawdust-scented garage below his apartment. Matt had inherited it from his father, along with his pride and joy: a ‘78 Ford Capri. Some of Matt’s earliest memories—at least, the ones he allowed himself to think about—were centred around that car. His father, Henry, had been tinkering with it for years, sometimes spending days at a time just focusing on a single element. It was no wonder, then, that it had never actually been brought back to full working order.

Matt was determined that he would finish what his father started. He may not have much of an interest in classic cars, but something inside drove him onwards. He just couldn’t leave it unfinished.

If nothing else, it gave him a focus, something to think about other than the shadows of his past and the void of his future. It was something to do, something to keep his hands and mind busy, drowning out the scratching, grating intrusions—like fingernails inside his skull. The days he didn’t spend on the car all seemed to blur into a single grey numbness that took several days to surface from, leaving Matt feeling lost, and for the itching in his brain to become an all-consuming self-loathing. It preyed on his mind, burned into his heart and sent him into a white-hot rage that blazed, then fizzled, only for the cycle to begin anew.

It hadn’t always been like this, but the thought of those times was worse than the aching maw of emptiness that was Matt’s life. Those memories had _feeling,_ and if it was a choice between that and the shadows, Matt would choose numbness every time.

He passed through the gate to his place, wincing at the screech of rust that he’d been meaning to fix for months now. It was so easy to lose focus, no matter how hard he tried; and the frustration only made things worse. Matt knew he had a temper, and no matter what he did, he could never seem to keep it under wraps.

Today he sat, aching and tired, with the last bubbles of anger still boiling through his veins. Another bad customer had proved too much for one night, draining the last reserves of Matt’s energy and leaving him practically sobbing at a simple software mix-up.

It was nothing really, and logically he knew that, but the roiling tide of his emotions splintered his senses into a maelstrom of unchecked frustration, with nowhere to go except his tear ducts. Matt wasn’t about to start punching walls again, at least not at work. His last three jobs had ended somewhat badly, and for exactly that reason. So far he’d managed to keep up the pretense of normality at this job. It was probably only a matter of time, though.

Matt hated it, and no matter how much he tried to control things, the anger seeped through, simmering under the surface, a boiling pot, ready to spill. It was a weakness, one which Matt could overcome, he was sure; he just needed to focus.

His apartment sat above a small garage that had been a stable once-upon-a-time, all heavy bricks and thick timbers. It was cool and quiet with air that smelt permanently of sawdust and oil. It was one of the few things Matt had left from his childhood, along with the car that currently sat in pieces all around him.

Tapping his fingers across faded red paintwork and sending a few flakes of rust fluttering to the floor like snow, Matt sighed. His electrical knowledge had gotten him through the first few stages of restoration but when it came to full-on car repair he was a little more unsure.

Matt ran his hands through his already unruly hair, considering his next step, and frowned. The barest hit of worry was rising in his chest: the tight, cold certainty that he should just give up; he was useless; he couldn’t fix it. All too familiar thoughts. He gritted his teeth together and shook his head, he owed it to his father to at least try.

The ever-present simmer of guilt burst into a rolling boil within Matt’s stomach. He wished he’d realised just how lucky he had been.

Henry Sullivan had doted on his son, never complaining when he’d been thrown out of school at fifteen, gently encouraging his love of electronics when he’d needed something to focus on, proudly supporting him when he’d decided to go back and finish his education, and most of all, calmly and patiently talking Matt through the haze of rage and frustration that overwhelmed him when it all got to be too much.

He could still remember it now: the soothing smile on his father’s face that so often Matt had ignored, dismissing his advice and always steadfastly insisting that he didn’t _need_ to talk to anyone. Not to a doctor. Not to him.

And now there was no one.

Matt was left alone in the dark with nothing but the shadows of his own memory to keep him company.

_A screeching crunch of metal. A single scream. A flash of scarlet. A bloom of pain, and then darkness. The only sound splitting the silence was Matt’s ragged breath and the incessant pounding of his heart. Finally sirens. Flashing lights. Blood. So much blood._

Matt swallowed, shaking the memory from his head. No. He wasn’t going to think about that. He couldn’t.

Brows furrowed, he turned towards the engine block propped on his workbench, running his fingers across the metal. A fine film of grease coated his fingertips, smudging them with black, which Matt idly brushed onto his jeans.

No one ever saw him anyway, what did it matter how he looked?

Grabbing for his goggles, Matt cursed as he slipped them over his glasses, jamming the metal into the bridge of his nose and making his eyes water. It wasn’t painful, just inconvenient; yet another little irritation that made Matt’s skin prickle and itch. He didn’t care much about pain when it did happen; the burns and scars that crossed his arms were a testament to that. It was just something else to push aside.

Wiping down the engine block with a rag, Matt turned his attention to the cable attached to the starter motor, setting it next to the battery. If he was right, when he hooked it up, the engine would start, and any oil leaks would be visible. Then it was just a case of replacing and patching as needed, or so he hoped.

To his joy, the engine started the first time, throbbing and growling, the sound sending Matt hurtling back through the corridor of his memories.

_“No, Rowan, Matt gets to sit at the front. You’re not big enough yet. Just you pop in the back with your sister, there’s a good girl.”_

_“Not fair! Mattie’s always gonna be bigger than us! We’ll never get in the front.”_

_“I don’t mind moving, Mom.”_

_“No, love, you’re fine. We need to get a move on. We’re already late. Your dad will be wondering where we’ve got to.”_

_Sheets of rain._

_Flashing lights._

_Silence._

Matt flung himself back, chest heaving, gaze darting around. His hands scraped for purchase as he landed heavily on the concrete floor. He could still hear the voices ringing in his ears, even above the sound of the idling engine.

“No,” Matt whispered, screwing his eyes up tight, fighting away the wave of sickness that threatened to wash over him. “No.” He tightened his fists, digging his nails into his palms before he crumpled in on himself, arms wrapped tight around his knees.

It was the past. It had already happened; there was nothing he could do about it. If he didn’t think about it, then he didn’t need to remember it.

Matt breathed deep, forehead resting on his knees as his thoughts surged like a tide around him.

_“ —can’t believe it—barely a scratch on him.”_

_“The dad’s on his way. I can’t imagine how he must—”_

_A shifting, blurred face._

_“Hey, hon, you awake? Don’t worry, your dad will be here soon.”_

_Pain. The memory of screeching tires. Blood._

_“...Rowan? Holly?_ Mom _?”_

_Blackness creeping back. Struggling. Losing._

Nothing.

Matt sat, trying to inhale through the knot that sat in his chest. His head pounded, and he wrenched off his safety goggles, throwing them against the opposite wall. He wasn’t going to let the memories win, even if the nausea was already starting to make his head spin. He swallowed against the rising bile in his throat, feeling tears already pricking at the corners of his eyes.

Closing his eyes against the spinning of his head, Matt breathed deep, or at least tried to. No matter how he tried, his breath just wouldn’t quite make it to his lungs. This was different from the panic attacks he’d had in the past, and it was only when Matt’s gaze alighted on the engine block still whirring away on the workbench, that he sluggishly realised what was happening.

He knew he should disconnect it, rush outside and let the fresh air clear the smog from his chest, but part of him—the part of him that lay awake at night staring into the darkness—held him back.

It would be so easy. All he needed to do was close his eyes. Then the memories would stop; the anger would stop; the cold, grey shadow that was his life would stop. It was simple, all he had to do was sit still and let it happen.

Matt moved.

He wrenched the cables from the battery and stumbled for the door, falling through it to land in the damp grass of the yard outside. Matt lay there trembling, cold droplets against his cheek mingling with the tears that ran freely in a waterfall of self-pity. His fingers clenched around a few wet clumps of grass and Matt sat up, staring into the grey sky.

He could feel his breath now, a narrow trickle just starting to fill his lungs, and Matt’s heart pounded in his ears. Shaking, he rose to his feet, glancing back at the garage, the car, the past, for a single moment before turning away.

Matt walked without thinking, not bothering to lock up the garage door behind him. He needed to get away, if only for a little while, before his sense of obligation dragged him right back again. The rusted metal of the gate screeched as he pushed his way out of the yard and into the street, slamming behind him with a final echo.

Matt scuffed his shoes along the pavement, mind in a fog. The rain had stopped for now, leaving the world damp and cold. Matt’s chest was still tight and he gulped in the cool evening air in an effort to clear his lungs. A shiver ran down his spine at the thought of what might have happened if he’d let the engine keep running. Part of him wondered if it would have been for the best. It wasn’t like anyone would have noticed, anyway.

Matt winced, digging his fingernails into his arm and letting the pain sharpen his thoughts. He wasn’t going to think like that. He just needed to get a little help, find some way of getting the car fixed. If he focused all his time on that then at least he had some reason to keep going. He could fix it. If nothing else in his life, he could fix the car.

What he needed was a manual, something good and technical to get his mind working properly. Matt nodded to himself, decision made; he could look for one online later. Right now, though, he needed to walk. His head was still grey and fuzzy and it needed to clear before he even thought about heading back towards home. The steady beat of his own feet was almost comforting as he wandered onwards with no destination in mind.

The town was still and silent, the grey film of twilight just starting to descend. A shiver crept down Matt’s spine; he was starting to regret not having a jacket with him. He wasn’t sure how long he’d walked. The heavy plod of his footsteps echoed around him, bouncing off the bricks of the houses surrounding him. He was just outside the centre of town, a few streets away from the main road, not somewhere he’d walked too often. A few windows were lit, cold and distant like stars, and Matt was starting to consider turning back for home.

His eye was caught, however, by a darting shadow, skittering across the pavement in front of him to dash down a shadowed lane.

Tilting his head in curiosity, Matt followed. It was probably a cat; he liked cats. He’d considered getting one for company, at some point, before deciding against it; he didn’t want to scare the poor thing with his tempers.

The lane was cobbled and quiet, the walls on either side covered in creeping ivy. The cat seemed to be gone but Matt kept walking. He could see a brightly lit window just ahead, shining in the slowly dying light. Rubbing his arms for warmth, Matt wandered up, peering inside.

It was a bookshop, that much was clear from the window display crammed with books of all shapes and sizes. A basket of sweet-smelling flowers hung by the door, and Matt edged closer. Just visible over the piles of dusty books was a small counter lit by candles and walls lined completely with shelves. Despite the fact the sign on the door read ‘Closed’ there was a movement of shadows inside and Matt watched with idle curiosity as a slim man with red hair, dressed completely in black, set a steaming mug down on the counter, scowling down at the book sat there. He turned, gesturing to someone further inside.

Matt felt his mouth fall open as the other person emerged from the dark maze of shelves. He was almost identical to the first man, hair shoulder-length instead of combed back, but something about him made Matt’s heart speed up and pound in his ribcage, hard enough to make his breath catch. He was dressed in a white shirt, as opposed to his brother’s black, and smiled softly even as his twin gestured in annoyance.

The cold seemed to fall away from Matt. He was entranced, drawn into the circle of candlelight, watching the golden highlights of the man’s hair as he pushed it over one shoulder. His smile was tired but Matt could feel the warmth behind it, making something flicker in the pit of his belly.

_Blue_ , Matt thought. _His eyes are blue._

He turned away at the sound of footsteps at the end of the lane, not wanting to seem like he was spying, and headed for home.

It seemed only moments before Matt found himself in front of his own front door; he didn’t even remember walking there. And despite the fact it was still very early in the evening, he went straight to bed. His almost-accident had drained him more than he’d thought, and he could feel exhaustion creeping up on him.

As he lay in bed, Matt’s thoughts drifted, and for the first time in a long time, they weren’t tinged with dull grey or blood red.

This time, he saw blue.


	2. The Bookshop

It took a few days for Matt to work up the courage to actually go into the bookshop; although he had walked past a few times, just to make sure it was still there. When it came down to it, though, it felt a little serendipitous. After all, where better to find books on engine repair?

_The internet, of course_ , thought Matt. Although there was a distinct lack of mesmerising redheads there, or so he supposed; he hadn’t looked.

And now today he stood, hands in his pockets, at the end of the lane, daring himself to walk forward. It was midafternoon and the first pale rays of sunlight were starting to emerge from the morning’s clouds.

Matt tried to flatten his hair with one hand— a useless endeavour— tugging the sleeve of his shirt with the other. For once, he’d made an effort with his appearance, a fact that made his stomach squirm with embarrassment. 

Still, though, he was here, he looked halfway decent, and he wasn’t going to turn and go home. Not this time. 

Matt strode to the door, pushing it open before he could second-guess himself. There was an airy tinkle of a bell, and then silence.

Matt peered around him, mouth falling open in amazement. The crowded window had somehow concealed just how big the shop was. Shelves upon shelves of books stretched into the depths, winding and maze-like. The main desk sat off to one side, piled high with books that had definitely seen better days.

Eyeing the cracked spines and yellowing pages, Matt wondered if car repair might not be a little too modern for this shop. The air was still, edged with dust and the scent of candles; although as far as Matt could tell, the place was spotless. He wandered over to the empty desk, wondering if he had missed a sign or something and the place was, in fact, closed. 

A quick glimpse at the sign on the door reassured him, but only a little. Matt had the distinct sense that he was intruding on something. He peered around the nearest row of shelves, seeing only a dead end and a squashy, threadbare armchair. Taking a look at the handwritten shelf label, Matt found that he was in the psychology section and quickly turned back the way he’d come. His shoulder caught on a precariously balanced textbook, dislodging it and sending it to the floor with a very final-sounding _slap_.

Floorboards creaked above Matt and he looked up to see the second level of the shop: a smaller mezzanine, equally crammed with shelving. A ginger head appeared over the balustrade, one eyebrow raised.

“Yes?”

The tone was clipped and impatient, and Matt immediately had the feeling he was under inspection.

“Sorry,” he mumbled. “I didn’t mean to knock it down. I was looking for car stuff.”

The man sighed. “Hold on a moment,” he said, before disappearing from view.

Matt instantly felt his shoulders relax. There was something about the harsh gaze that made him want to stand to attention. His eyes widened as there came a _click_ from beside him and an entire row of shelves slid to one side, revealing the man from upstairs.

“Wow, cool,” Matt said. “This place is great.”

The man gave a thin smile. “Yes, it is rather interesting, isn’t it?” He was dressed completely in black, much like the night Matt had first looked in the window. He was wearing a name badge written in the same elegant hand as the shelf labels: _Armitage Hux_.

“Are you the manager, or something?” Matt asked, still peering behind Armitage to spot exactly where the shelves had moved.

“Something like that,” Armitage said. He sounded bored. “All the automotive books are in the back.” He pointed towards an arch that led further into the shop. “Down there and to the right you’ll see a reading area; they should be next to that.” Armitage folded his arms, his tone giving Matt the impression that he was about as comfortable with customer interaction as Matt himself was. “If you need any more help, my brother should be around there somewhere.” Armitage gave a thin smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You can’t miss him; he looks just like me but with longer hair.”

“Sure, thanks,” Matt said, butterflies swarming in the pit of his stomach. He wasn’t entirely sure what he’d say if he did run into the brother. Hopefully something other than the gibberish that ran through his head when he thought of the prospect.

Tugging the sleeves of his shirt downwards, Matt wandered through the maze of shelves. The shop was eerily silent, as if any sounds from the world outside were absorbed by the pages surrounding him. Glancing back, Matt noticed that Armitage had already disappeared. He ran his fingers along the wooden shelves, feeling the pattern of the grain beneath his fingertips, and walked onwards.

A few twists and turns later, Matt found the reading area and stopped in his tracks.

Syrupy golden sunlight streamed in, highlighting the dancing motes of dust above a heavy wooden table, and Matt could feel his heart stuttering in his chest at the sight. Pale, slender fingers brushed shining strands of copper hair from a faintly freckled forehead. Matt felt his breath catch as he peered around the heavy wooden bookcase. The man at the table blinked, pale eyelashes fluttering like candlelight, completely entranced by the heavy, leather-bound book on the table. He wet his lips, the briefest hint of his tongue visible for an instant, and Matt mirrored the motion, swiping across his own cracked lips, rough and parchment-dry.

A silken shadow slid around Matt’s ankle, jolting him from his reverie and he glanced down to see a cat, striped and equally as orange as the twins, sauntering its way towards the table.

“Oh! Hello, Millie,” said the man at the table. “Are you here to help me with my research?”

His voice was low and soft, his accent much less clipped than that of his brother, almost musical in Matt’s ears. He watched as the cat jumped up, purrs rumbling through the still air of the room as her ears were scratched. She turned in a circle on the table before settling down, curling into a loaf-like ball on the open pages of the book.

“Ah! The lesser known butt-reading technique! Truly you are a lady of much skill.” The man giggled to himself, hair slipping from one shoulder to reveal the line of his neck, inked in a swirling tattoo surrounded by deep purple flowers. He stood, reaching out to move the cat before seeming to reconsider. “I suppose you’re right. I _do_ need a break.” He turned before Matt could duck behind the nearest stack of books, jumping back a little when he spotted him lurking in the shadows.

“Shit! I—um, I mean… Sorry. I—uh—didn’t see you there. Is there—? Do you…need help...with something?”

Matt opened and closed his mouth a few times as his brain struggled to process. Up close the man’s eyes were a piercing electric blue that stunned him into silence, seeming to bore straight into Matt’s very core.

“I…I—” Matt’s gaze dropped to his feet, but then moved back upwards, glancing over the man in front of him. He wore a nametag, like his brother, which proclaimed him to be ‘William’. A hot flush spread up Matt’s cheeks, a combination of embarrassment and anger at his complete inability to _just say words._ He glared at the floor, willing it to open up and swallow him.

William didn’t move; he didn’t say anything, simply twisted a strand of his hair between his fingers, flushed face turned towards Matt.

“Cars,” Matt blurted out, meeting William’s gaze. “Your brother said the car manuals were back here.”

“Oh, yes.” William smiled, looking relieved. “Just over this way.” He led Matt around another wall of shelves and pointed towards a few haphazard stacks. “There aren’t very many, but hopefully you can find something that interests you.”

Matt found his gaze wandering over William’s face, and swallowed. “Thank you.” William nodded, eyes meeting Matt’s for the briefest of seconds before he turned away. “Wait,” Matt said, a strange flutter in his throat, “I’m sorry. Back there, for, um, startling you.”

“Oh, it’s nothing,” said William with a shake of his head and a small smile. “I feel a bit silly, jumping at shadows.” He tucked a strand of hair behind one ear and, for the first time, Matt noticed the slight tremor in his hand. Combined with the red rims and dark circles of his eyes, Matt wondered if he might be ill. His lips looked soft.

“— so if there’s anything else you need, just let me know.”

Matt blinked and nodded. “I will. Thank you.” He smiled, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, not sure what else to say.

William gave a small smile of his own. “Don’t mention it.” His fingers twisted in the hem of his shirt.

They stood, silent, still facing each other for a few moments before William blinked and turned away. Matt could hear him gathering the books on the table behind him as he rifled through the outdated selection of car manuals. 

Luckily, out-of-date was exactly what he was looking for, and, after a little digging, Matt found himself with a battered copy of _Automotive Engines: Diagnosis, Repair, Rebuilding_ and, against all odds, a Haynes manual for the Ford Capri. He’d also acquired Millie as a companion. She had settled on the shelf above his head and swatted lazily at his hair every time it was within reach.

Matt smiled to himself. The brittle feeling in his nerves that had persisted since the garage incident was finally starting to dissipate, and he settled himself into a squashy-looking armchair to flick through his books.

Despite the streaming sunlight, the reading room was still and cold, and Matt could feel the hair starting to prickle on his neck. Millie wound around his ankles, chirping until Matt reached down to scratch her ears. Part of him was hoping that William might reappear to continue whatever research it was he had been doing. Not that Matt could think of any potential conversations other than ‘I like your cat’.

Light footsteps echoed through the labyrinth of shelves and Matt sat upright, opening the book on his lap to a random page and pretending to be engrossed. 

To his dismay, it was just another customer, humming idly to herself as she flicked through a disturbingly large section of books on how to make your own jigsaw puzzles. Raising an eyebrow, Matt returned his attention to the book, noticing with some disappointment that the cat had disappeared.

He sat a little while longer, the shelves and floorboards gently creaking like the timbers of a great ship around him. There were a few more footsteps, but Matt didn’t see anyone else until he made his way back to the front of the shop.

Both Armitage and William were sat at the front desk, Armitage frowning as he scribbled something in a notebook. William, on the other hand, turned to Matt with a bright smile.

“Oh, good. You found something? I was just thinking about coming back there to find you.”

Silently, Matt cursed his own impatience. “Yeah, these are pretty much exactly what I needed. Thanks.” He sat the books on the desk next to a small potted plant that William was apparently pruning.

“You never know what you’re going to find in old bookshops,” William said, smiling. “ _I_ couldn’t even tell you half of what we have here.”

“Maybe I should come back and explore some time,” Matt said, without thinking. He felt his face flush when his brain eventually caught up.

“Sure,” William said with another bright smile. “Armie keeps asking me to do more inventory, so feel free to drop in.” He seemed to be ignoring the glare his brother was shooting him, and Matt pursed his lips, trying to keep his expression neutral at the name ‘Armie’. There was a brush against his ankles as he dug in his pockets for cash and Matt looked down to see striped orange fur.

“I like your cat,” he said. No better words had come to him, and Matt could feel his nervousness rising, hoping he didn’t sound like a complete idiot. 

Much to Matt’s surprise, Armitage’s expression brightened; clearly he’d found a soft spot. “She seems to like you, too,” he said.

“Which is unusual,” William added. “Millicent doesn’t usually like anyone.” He gave another soft smile and passed Matt the receipt for his books. “Guess I’ll see you about?”

“I—um…yeah,” Matt said, hating himself slightly for his overreaction to such a simple platitude. “Uh…bye, then.” 

He turned for the door and left without a backwards glance. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d spoken as much to anyone without trying to get to the bottom of a software issue. An odd electricity seemed to be thrumming beneath Matt’s skin, simultaneously filling him with more energy than he’d felt in a long while and bringing him to the brink of exhaustion. 

He was home before he realised it, slipping his shoes off at the door and plodding up the echoey wooden stairs to his apartment. Discarding his new books, Matt sank onto the couch face-first and smiled into the worn cushions.

He’d done it. He’d spoken to William—a whole conversation almost. 

Now he just needed an excuse to go back.

As always, Matt’s thoughts turned to the car. It would be a lot easier, now that he had some instructions; or, at the very least, he’d be less likely to accidentally poison himself. He resolved to read through his books later. Right now, though, Matt just wanted to bask. 

Conversation did not come easily to him; the few friends he’d had at school had drifted away after… _everything_ , something which only compounded the growing frustration inside him. When it had all gotten to be too much, and he’d let that anger out, he’d been expelled, and that was the last Matt had seen of any friends.

The next few years blurred together in Matt’s mind: jobs he couldn’t keep, people he couldn’t stand, a doctor or two who would appear briefly and fade away into the same grey fog that comprised most of Matt’s memories. 

University had been a brief reprieve, something to focus on, bringing the world back into clarity. Matt had spoken to people, then; he’d almost had a boyfriend even, until his grades had started slipping and he’d retreated into himself once more. Letting someone in meant letting his feelings out, and Matt didn’t want anyone to ever have to deal with that mess. 

Even then, though, he’d had his dad—that little anchor to normality, always reliable, always supportive, always there. Until he wasn’t.

The cancer had been fast and aggressive, and Matt hadn’t even known about it until it was too far along. _“I didn’t want you to worry,”_ Henry had said. _“You’ve already been through so much._

Matt had screamed then, cried and raged. “Me? We’ve both been through it! And still you’re only thinking about me. Why? I’m not worth it. You could have gone anywhere after the accident and just left me to deal with it. Even now. You’re dying and all you can think about is me not worrying. Why?”

A tired smile. _“Because I love you. And I know you can get through this. You’re strong, Matthias. You just need to learn to let someone help you.”_ He had patted Matt’s hand. _“I’ve given you my therapist’s details, but the choice is up to you.”_

_“I’ll be fine,”_ Matt had said, knowing full well that he wouldn’t be. A stubborn little part of him refused to admit just how terrified he was at the prospect of facing the world alone. He wasn’t going to say so, though, not wanting his dad to worry; in that way they were both so much alike.

And now Matt lay staring at the gently flaking paint of the ceiling. Warmth pooled in his stomach as his thoughts drifted closer to the present, spreading out to his very fingertips. He became aware of just how empty his stomach was.

Regular meals were something of a rarity for Matt; generally he ate when he remembered to, never really savouring anything, not bothering with flavours. It was usually cereal, dry because he’d forgotten the milk was off, or instant noodles. Food was just an energy source, a necessity for going to work and not much more.

Now though, Matt was ravenous, craving something with actual flavour for once. 

A scramble around his cupboards unearthed some chicken stock, a tin of mushrooms, the ubiquitous noodles, and an onion that was only slightly suspect. Matt smiled to himself. This was a start; he could make something up.

He really should pick up some cookbooks, though.

He knew the perfect place.

*****

A week or so later, Matt strode back up the cobbled lane, only slightly more confident this time. He still kept his hands tucked tight in the pockets of his hoodie, twisting in the fabric in an attempt to keep his nerves in check. He breathed deep as he pushed open the door, flinching slightly at the sound of the bell announcing his arrival.

Disappointingly, no one appeared to greet him although he could hear the sound of footsteps somewhere within the forest of shelves, followed by the faintest hint of conversation just on the edge of hearing. Matt sighed, tapping his foot on the polished wood of the floor for a few seconds before deciding to head for the source of the voices.

He could have sworn he’d followed the same path as last time, but Matt somehow found himself in a completely different area of the bookshop. Instead of the table and squashy armchairs of the reading room, this room was slightly smaller, containing only an ancient writing desk and a row of potted plants on the windowsill. The air was green and fragrant with the scent of growing things and Matt inhaled deeply, struck once more by just how peaceful things were amongst the shelves.

Pushing his glasses up his nose, he glanced around, taking in the neat labels on the edge of each bookcase. It seemed that today he’d stumbled upon the botany section, which, Matt supposed, was appropriate given the number of plants surrounding him. He brushed the petals of one sweet-smelling rose and breathed deep. 

There was a creak of floorboards and Matt spun, finding no one behind him. Hairs were starting to rise on the back of his neck, as if someone were standing next to him, barely a breath away.

Gaze flicking around the room, Matt saw no sign of any presence other than his own. He shuffled around another bookcase, searching and silently cursing the maze-like warren of shelves.

“Were you looking for something?” said a voice behind him, and Matt jolted, spinning once more to find William standing by the window, a small smile on his face.

His eyes seemed even more red than they had the first time they’d spoken, his skin far paler, and Matt had the urge to embrace him, protect him somehow from whatever it was that caused his hands to tremble, wrapped as they were in the hem of his jumper. Instead, though, he simply turned red, words stuttering out.

“Oh! H-Hello. Hi.” Matt’s gaze found the floor; he stared fixedly at the outline of his own shadow. His feet seemed riveted to the spot, even as his mind raced, playing a hundred overlapping potential conversations all at once, each more excruciatingly embarrassing than the last.

“Nice to see you again,” William said, and Matt’s head shot up just in time to catch the light flush of pink that spilled across pale cheeks. “Did the car books help you out at all?”

“Oh yeah, they really did.” Matt’s palms were sweating and he was trying his best to wipe them on his jeans without being noticed. “They were great.” William was smiling at him and it was not helping the swarm of nerves currently buzzing through his body.

“So, what can I do for you today?”

“Um.” Matt ran a hand through his hair, ruffling it into even wilder curls. “I may have noticed that I suck at cooking, so anything in that area would be cool.”

“Sure, just follow me. We’re actually on the wrong side of the shop.” 

William slipped through the stacks like a shadow and Matt followed. They passed the main counter, where Armitage sat, needle and thread in hand, patching up what looked like a ragged black scarf.

William caught Matt’s eye, and whispered under his breath, “It’s his favourite; he’ll never get rid of it.”

Matt shrugged. “Fair enough.” His own clothes seemed to be in a perpetual state of well-worn, even straight after he’d bought them. “Seems like a useful hobby.”

William smiled and Matt could feel his stomach flutter, barely paying attention to his question. “So what do you do? Um, aside from fixing up cars, I mean?”

“Well, I work in a call centre, tech support kinda stuff,” Matt said. “Technically I’m an electrical engineer, but so far all my degree has been good for is running up debt.”

“Oh! That’s really interesting.” William stopped. “I’m kinda teaching myself programming right now. I really love getting into mechanical kinds of things. I even make little sculptures out of copper wire, sometimes.” Eyes shining brightly, he spread his hands wide, more animated than Matt had seen yet. Matt couldn’t help but smile at the enthusiasm. Noticing this, William stopped talking and, with a small cough, he brushed his loose hair from his eyes. “So—um, yeah. Here we are: cookbooks.”

“Thanks.” Matt inhaled, steeling himself. “William.” He bit at his lower lip as their eyes met, and William made a face, cheeks flushing once more.

“Oh, you don’t need to call me that.” Slim fingers twisted in fabric. “I go by my nickname, usually.”

Matt raised an eyebrow. “Really? What’s your nickname?” He searched the pale face, looking for some sort of reaction. “Bill? Liam?” His nose wrinkled slightly. “Willy?”

There was the smallest of giggles. “You can go through all the variants; you’re not going to guess it.”

“Well…” Matt said, “are you going to make me keep guessing?”

“No.” Another shy smile. “It’s Techie. You can call me Techie.”

Matt could feel the corner of his lip quirking up in a smile as he shook his head slightly. “You’re right, I never would have guessed that.”

“Well, it’s better than my given name, at any rate.”

“I hear that,” Matt said, wavering for a second before meeting Techie’s gaze. “I’m Matthias, but _please_ call me Matt.”

With a hint of a smirk, Techie leaned against the bookshelf. “I dunno, Matthias doesn’t seem _that_ bad.” His eyes shone, and Matt had the briefest sensation of being drawn inwards, losing himself in the pools of blue.

“It could have been worse, I suppose. I could have been named after plants, like my sisters.” Matt stopped, chest immediately constricting, cold washing over him. He wasn’t sure why he’d even mentioned that. He hadn’t thought of them in so long; it hurt too much to do so. 

Techie tilted his head, pale eyebrows sliding together. “Matt?” His voice was low, soothing, and Matt clung to it like a lifeline, trying to stop himself being pulled under by the memories.

“So, t-tell me about your hobbies,” Matt choked out, needing something to focus on besides the echoes of the past. Techie’s voice was just right, soft and calming, tinged slightly with concern.

“Well, I like plants. You can probably tell. Most of the ones around the bookshop are mine. The wet weather has been a nightmare for the hanging baskets, but y’know, just gotta keep trying.” Techie tentatively reached out a hand, stopping just shy of touching Matt’s shoulder. “Are you sure you’re okay? You look a little pale. Let me get you some water.” 

“It’s fine,” Matt said, fists clenching as he tried to steady his breathing. “I’m fine.”

“Even so…” Techie leaned around the shelves, raising his voice slightly: “Hey, Armie? Can I get some water, please?”

A minute later and Armitage appeared, worry lined on his face. “Are you okay? You said you were feeling better today. Do you feel dizzy?” He looked his brother over, resting one hand on his shoulder, a glass of water held in the other.

“I’m fine.” Techie said, taking the glass and offering it to Matt. “My friend was just feeling a little ill. Thanks, Armie.”

Matt took a sip and felt the coolness spreading through him, dousing the fire in his veins. A glance upwards showed matching expressions of concern, and a little flicker of happiness bubbled in Matt’s chest. They cared, even if it were only for a moment, and, in Armitage’s case, he probably didn’t want someone freaking out in his shop, but they cared.

“Thank you,” Matt said, levelling a shaky smile at Armitage, whose face had closed off once more. “I’m okay.”

An arched eyebrow. “Well, all right then. I’m sure my brother can take good care of you. Techie, if you need anything else just give me a shout.”

“Will do.” Techie smiled, watching Armitage return to the front of the store. He turned to Matt and rolled his eyes. “He’s overprotective. Just because I’ve been a little ill lately.”

Matt nodded. “That’s good though; you’ve got someone looking out for you.” He took in the narrow shoulders and the faint shake of Techie’s hands and felt a wave of protectiveness wash over him. He really couldn’t blame Armitage at all. He’d barely spoken to Techie and he already wanted to wrap him in a blanket and take him home. 

“So, anyway,” Techie started, “got any idea what sort of cooking you’d like to do?”

“Not really,” Matt said, shrugging. He shuffled his feet, not sure how to continue. There were a few moments of silence before a sudden bright spark lit his mind. “What’s _your_ favourite?”

“Oh, um.” Techie tilted his head. “We’re kinda experimental with food, to be perfectly honest. But I like, like, pasta and things.”

“Okay, sounds like a good place to start,” Matt said, thumbing across a row of Italian cookbooks just as Techie reached for one. Their hands brushed, skin against skin, for barely a second, but Matt swore he could hear an intake of breath. His own heart hammered and he didn’t dare look up to meet Techie’s eyes.

“Maybe this one, too,” he heard Techie say. Techie stepped ever so slightly closer, making Matt acutely aware of the faint heat between them. He wet his lips.

“Good. This is good.”

Techie smiled. “You’ll have to come back and tell me how your culinary exploits go.”

Matt turned, catching his eye and feeling his lips curve upwards. “Oh yeah, I’ll definitely be back.”

“I look forward to it.”

*****

That evening, sauce bubbling away in the pan beside him, Matt smiled to himself. It had been a good day; he was making good progress on the car, his food smelled fantastic, Techie had asked him to come back, and when he’d left the shop Armitage had told him to ‘Take care’. Even replacing battery cables had been a pleasant task, the copper wire he’d stripped from the inside bringing the image of Techie to his mind.

He wished every day could be as easy as this, but the niggling itch in the back of his mind was a stubborn reminder that it wouldn’t be. Still though, Matt pushed it back. He wasn’t going to end the day on a low point. He was going to eat his pasta, work a little on the car, and then he was going to sleep. He wasn’t going to overthink things. He wasn’t going to analyse Techie’s words. He was going to relax and sleep and dream.

Much to his surprise, he did.


	3. Touch

A few weeks later and Matt was building himself a new bookcase. The books in the other shelves had spilled over, and he had only himself to blame. Okay, so he’d needed the car books, and the widening collection of cookbooks had really helped him improve his diet, but when it came to the encyclopaedia of birds, the history of the Byzantine Empire, and the complete illustrated guide to British plants, then it was going a little too far.

Matt was running out of excuses to go back to the bookshop, and the thought made his stomach twist. There was only so long he could try to keep it cool. Techie was bound to catch on, and then what?

_Then maybe you could ask him out._

Matt shook his head, trying to ignore the little part of his brain that, annoyingly, seemed to speak in Techie’s voice. He knew there was no way someone as smart and funny as Techie would be interested in a mess like him. It was okay though, even if his crush went unrequited. For the first time in years, Matt felt he had a friend. Maybe even two.

The first time he’d returned after buying the cookbooks, he’d been greeted by Armitage, who’d informed him that Techie was feeling a little under the weather, but had still insisted on making him a cup of tea, to ensure his journey hadn’t been wasted. Matt had the impression that the cold countenance was something of a façade, since it was clear that Armitage cared for his brother deeply. As it was, Techie had emerged from the flat upstairs about ten minutes later, wrapped in a huge cardigan and swearing at a circuit board he held in his hand.

“Fucking thing is broken again. We need to get the— Oh, um, hello.”

Armitage had simply raised an eyebrow and shaken his head, leaving Matt and Techie to a fairly productive afternoon of electronics talk, marred only by Matt’s brief panic when Techie asked what he’d come in for. 

Blurting out some nonsense about seeing an interesting bird outside his window, Matt had somehow ended up with an encyclopaedia and a recommendation for birdseed. And now he had a bird feeder outside his kitchen window; he hadn’t wanted the book to go unread. Today the feeder was being visited by two goldfinches and a particularly bold wren at which Matt couldn’t help but smile, despite the rising tide of nerves. 

He wanted to go back to the bookshop; he really did. Talking to Techie was the highlight of his week; he’d even managed to talk about his parents for a few minutes before the pounding guilt inside his head had caught up with him and he’d changed the subject.

“So _that_ explains the accent,” Techie had said, face lighting up as if he had solved some great mystery. “I had wondered.”

“Yeah, but I’m only half American, though, my mom was Welsh. Her name was Eirlys. It means ‘snowdrop’.” Matt had said, with a wistful smile, before freezing completely. Something about talking to Techie seemed to bring his guard down, making it all too easy for things to spill out that hadn’t seen the light of day for years.

Techie hadn’t seemed to notice Matt clamming up, simply nodding and saying, “I love snowdrops. They’re one of my favourites. And violets.” He gestured to the inked purple petals that swirled up his neck. “As you can probably tell.”

That had been the day Matt ended up with the plant guide.

Now, as he shuffled his books into their new home, he couldn’t think of what else to say. Words seemed to come so easily when he was with Techie, yet somehow retreated back into the black cloud of his mind whenever he was not. It was an odd sensation, and for the first time in his adult life, Matt actually felt like talking about himself. Not his problems, of course— no one needed to know about those—but his hobbies, his work day, normal everyday things. And honestly, he thought Techie might just be interested in what he had to say.

As for Techie, Matt couldn’t get enough. He’d never met someone who fascinated him as much. He was simultaneously adorably shy and wickedly sharp, equally as interested in fixing things as Matt was and almost as silent about he and Armitage’s own past—not that Matt was going to pry.

Even so, he wanted to know everything about Techie—most of all, how to make him smile.

Every time Techie smiled it was like dawn breaking, gently slipping through the shadowed cloud that surrounded Matt’s life and bringing just a little bit of colour along with it. It was a feeling that Matt wanted to keep within him, even if it did mean embarrassing himself.

Stepping back to admire his handiwork, Matt clapped his hands together, decision made. He was going to go to the bookshop. He was going to talk to Techie without making any excuses involving books. He was going to be honest.

And he was going to go now, before he changed his mind.

The sky was just starting to turn orange, the longer nights already setting in. It would be dark again before Matt knew it. Hauling on his boots, he scrambled downstairs and out into the chill air of the yard. He’d have to hurry to make it before closing time.

By the time he reached the lane, Matt was panting, his breath coming in sharp puffs that clouded in the evening air. He braced his hands on his thighs as he bent, trying to catch his breath before he went inside. He at least wanted to _seem_ put together.

As always, the windows of the shop seemed to glow, beckoning him in. The hanging baskets were still full and bright, despite the cold tinging the air, and Matt smiled to himself. He’d never been able to keep plants alive on the rare occasions he’d brought them into his apartment; he was too forgetful and easily distracted. Clearly though, Techie had something of a skill with them.

The bell tinkled its familiar jingle as Matt slipped through the doorway into the empty shop. He wasn’t surprised to see no one about; the place had more rooms and alcoves than Matt could count, and he really wasn’t sure exactly how they all managed to be crammed into such a small building. One of the twins would always show up after a minute or two, anyway.

Sure enough, the sound of footsteps came closer and Matt glanced up to the mezzanine to see Armitage, scowling as usual, a number of heavy books in his arms.

“We’re almost closed, you know. I’m just about to lock up,” he sighed before jerking his head towards the back of the shop. “Techie’s in the back. He can let you out when you leave.”

“Thanks, Armi—” Matt started, sentence trailing off as Armitage disappeared from view. Matt shrugged. From what he’d seen, Armitage was very much the silent type, defrosting only when Techie was involved. There was a sadness there, something that resonated with Matt. More than once he’d caught a glimpse of a wistful stare or a half hidden flicker of pain and wondered just what it was that had caused the icy demeanor.

A shiver rippled down Matt’s spine as he headed for the back of the shop, the only sound that of his own footsteps. Light flickered ahead of him and he rounded one of the stacks to find Techie curled in one of the worn armchairs that dotted the shop, hair hanging loose to hide his face, his nose buried in a book. 

Warmth was pooling beneath Matt’s skin, flooding through him as he walked closer, blinking in the low light. A number of candles lined the mantelpiece above the disused fireplace, the dancing flames creating distorted spikes and shadows around the small room.

“Are candles really such a good idea in a bookshop?” Matt asked, giving a small wave as Techie surfaced from his book. “Hello.”

“Matt! Hey!” Techie stood, his shadow doubled in candlelight, wavering around the edges. “You’re here late. Looking for something?”

“I’m just— You don’t need to get up,” Matt started, sliding into the chair by Techie’s own. His tongue seemed suddenly too large for his mouth, his throat dry. He ran a hand through his hair. “You know I had to build a new bookshelf today? I’ve bought so many, recently.”

Techie raised an eyebrow. “That’s…good?”

Matt shook his head, glasses starting to slide down his nose. “It’s just— Up until a few weeks ago I had like, _five_ books, and now I’m building shelves for the overflow. It’s getting ridiculous—” He could feel his cheeks reddening; he sounded like an idiot. “I’ve got enough books,” he finished with a mumble.

Techie leaned over the arm of the chair, gaze soft. “So, um…does this mean you won’t be coming back?” He pursed his lips, forehead furrowed in concern.

Swallowing, Matt shook his head. “No. It just means I’m out of excuses.” His blood pounded in his ears, and he could feel his face getting hotter and hotter. “The thing is, I didn’t really need the plant books, or the thing with all the birds. I just—” Matt ran a hand through his hair, wincing slightly to himself. “I just wanted a reason to keep coming back. I _really_ like talking with you.”

“Oh!” Techie slid from his chair and edged closer, colour rising on his own cheeks. He crouched by Matt, not quite meeting his eyes. His hand twitched out, stopping inches from Matt’s own. “You know I like talking with you, too, right?”

Matt swallowed, feeling ridiculous. He was twenty-nine years old; his heart shouldn’t be pounding at the thought of something as simple as the touch of another’s hand. His gaze, though, was fixed, focused intently on the minute space between them. All he had to do was reach out.

“Techie. I—” Matt’s words were cut off as Techie’s hand found his, slowly entwining their fingers. It was soft and warm and ever so slightly clammy, but as warmth spread up his wrist, Matt couldn’t imagine any better feeling.

“So,” Techie began, “you’re going to keep coming around, right?”

Matt nodded mutely, hope bubbling in his chest. “Maybe…maybe we could even go on a date some time?”

Techie’s grip on his hand tightened and Matt dared to raise his head to meet Techie’s eyes. “I’d like that,” Techie said, inching towards him. 

Matt swallowed. Techie’s eyelashes were almost translucent this close. He squeezed tight on the fingers in his grasp, willing away the flutter of panic that rose as he leaned forwards. He was going to do it; he was going to kiss Techie.

Those blue eyes had already slid closed and Matt breathed in, catching the scent of Techie’s hair. The candles flickered and Matt slipped his own eyes shut.

And instantly snapped them back open. A low rumble came from behind them followed by a slow scraping slide and the crash of a shower of books hitting the floor. Techie jumped to his feet, letting go of Matt’s hand.

“Millicent!”

Matt blinked, following Techie and stooping to scoop up an armful of books, a few loose pages fluttering to the ground like leaves. Techie blinked around in the darkness between the shelves and shook his head, making his hair dance. He shrugged at Matt. “Cats.”

Footsteps hurried towards them and Matt knew already that it was Armitage, scowling, fists clenched. “What the _hell_ was all that noise?”

“Books, Armie,” Techie said. “They fell. Probably Millie climbing the shelves again.”

Armitage’s eyebrow twitched and his gaze briefly flickered over Matt. “Right, of course. Well once we’ve got them tidied away, then you can let Matt out and we’ll call it an evening, shall we?”

“But Armie I—” Techie caught his brother’s eye, a flicker of some understanding passing between them. Matt saw Techie’s fingers clench in the hem of his shirt. “I’ll be up to the flat soon.”

Armitage nodded. “Until next time, Matt.” He turned, marching away, fingers tapping against his thigh as he did.

“Come on,” Techie sighed, as if suddenly exhausted. “I’ll unlock the door.” He gave Matt a small smile, reaching out and taking his hand again, leading him through the labyrinth of shelves.

Matt followed in silence, wishing he could somehow wind back time and stop the books from falling. Techie seemed tense now, the easy intimacy that had seemed only a breath away dissipated in an instant. He gave a little squeeze and felt Techie return it, reassuring him a little.

“So—” Matt said as they reached the door, only to be cut off by Techie wrapping his arms around him his forehead pressed to Matt’s shoulder. He froze, not sure how to reciprocate with his own arms pinned to his sides. He settled for awkwardly resting his head atop Techie’s own.

“I’ll see you soon?” Techie mumbled into his shoulder. “For our date, right?”

“Um, sure.” Matt swallowed. “Thursday, around six?”

“I’ll be here.” Techie released his grip, pulling away with a tired smile, and Matt felt a pang at the loss of contact. He tried to catch Techie’s eye as he slipped through the door, hoping to catch even an ounce of the spark that had flowed between them just minutes before. He wasn’t sure when he’d be able to pluck up the courage to try and kiss Techie again.

His heart sank as the door closed between them, the lock turning with a definitive click. Through the glass Matt could see the faint form of Techie walking away, farther into the bookshop, disappearing back to where the shadows flickered against the walls.

That night Matt found himself unable to sleep, something he was unfortunately used to. His brain refused to switch off, replaying the day in his head, permutation after permutation of things he could have done differently. Matt sighed to himself, arms folded behind his head. All in all, he thought, asking Techie out had gone pretty well. He’d said yes, at least.

Still, an insidious little prickle in his mind told him it was just out of pity. Once they’d actually gone out then Techie would change his mind. Matt rubbed a hand across his face, scratching at the stubble on his chin. He’d just have to make it a really good date.

*****

The next few days were cold and grey, dampening Matt’s mood and bringing his nerves to the forefront. By the time Thursday came around, rain battered through the town, plastering Matt’s hair to his scalp and soaking him to the bone. He shivered, dashing home from work. It would be so much easier when the car was finally finished. Maybe he could even take Techie out for a drive, some time. 

The thought warmed him somewhat.

As he scrambled through the piles of half-clean clothes strewn across his bedroom floor, Matt tried to banish the doubts that seemed intent on threading through his mind, tugging at the weakest parts of him.

Techie had said he liked him. Techie wanted to go out with him. 

Maybe if he kept repeating it, he could convince himself it was true.

Shucking his damp work clothes and setting his glasses aside, Matt breathed deep and roughly shoved away the shirt that typically hung to hide the mirror. He glared at his reflection, tilting his head, wondering exactly how to make himself presentable.

His hair was already springing back into its usual disarray, the rain only taking hold for so long. Matt grabbed a brush, trying to tame it into some kind of shape, frustration only rising further as the haphazard curls stuck out at all angles. Matt gritted his teeth, giving up on that particular attempt at grooming.

His gaze travelled across his face and Matt curled his lip at the sight of his own expression. Without his glasses his reflection blurred a little around the edges, but he could see his features clearly. His eyes were dark, the evidence of too many sleepless nights, and Matt was glad he could at least hide the rings a little with the frames of his glasses, unfashionable though they were. He brushed a finger across one of the dark moles near his nose, wondering if Techie actually liked them; he couldn’t imagine why anyone would. His entire body was covered in them, too, and that was where Matt looked next, brows creasing at the unfamiliar sight of himself: too big, too awkward.

He tested out a smile that was more a grimace and sighed, shoulders slumping. There really wasn’t much he could do with so little to work with.

There was a heavy feeling in Matt’s head, and he winced, hoping it wasn’t a sign of a bad night on the way. It would be so typical; anytime he got close to anything resembling happiness his brain found a way to shut him down. He clenched his fist and breathed deep. There was nothing to be nervous about, just his first date in almost ten years. It was fine.

Matt finally settled on his least worn shirt and jeans. The plan was to take Techie to dinner and maybe coffee; he didn’t need to be too fancy for that. A glance out the window confirmed that the rain was only getting worse, and Matt sighed; he hated days like this. 

_“Matt, love, sit back. Rowan, Holly, please stop arguing about the front seat. It’s very wet. I need to concentrate on the road.”_

A cold shiver worked its way up Matt’s spine, sinking deep into his chest, and he swallowed back the rising lump in his throat. He gritted his teeth, marching for the door and grabbing his coat and umbrella before the memories had a chance to sink their claws in.

The drumming of the rain atop his umbrella made for effective white noise as Matt walked through the sheets of rain, drowning out his thoughts and leaving him with just the buoyant bubbles of anticipation for his date. 

He arrived at the bookshop only slightly damp, propping his umbrella against the door, beneath the half-dead hanging baskets. Matt knocked gently, waving to Armitage, who was just inside. He was ushered in with a harried wave, and Matt’s stomach plummeted at the grim look on Armitage’s face. He steeled himself, mentally preparing; he really should have expected the older brother shovel talk at some point.

The worry only really kicked in when Armitage locked the door behind him.

“Look, Matt,” Armitage began, one hand brushing through his hair. “Come sit with me for a moment, please.”

Matt followed as Armitage settled himself in one of the chairs by the cash desk, gesturing to the one next to him. He sat, back ramrod straight, feeling Armitage’s grey-green gaze bore into him. He pursed his lips, steepling his fingers together, looking Matt over. “Now I know you and Techie were supposed to go out tonight, but there may have to be a change of plans.”

Fear gripped tight between Matt’s ribs, and he could feel his fingers clenching on the arms of the chair. “Did he change his mind? Did he ask you to tell me? I’m sorry, I’ll just go.” He moved to stand and Armitage stood with him, gripping his wrist.

“It’s not like that. Sit back down.” Armitage was glaring, his eyes cold steel, and Matt was suddenly struck by the fact they were almost the same height, something he’d never noticed with Techie. Maybe it was the tone of voice; maybe it was just Armitage’s imposing nature, but he lowered himself back into his chair, snatching his wrist from Armitage’s grasp.

“So what’s wrong? Do you have a problem with me dating your brother?” Matt said, hoping the flutter of worry inside him didn’t show in his voice.

Armitage huffed out the smallest of laughs, his lips curving in a tired smile that was gone in an instant. “Not in the slightest. He won’t shut up about you. It’s nice to see him so happy.”

It was there again, Matt saw: that deep sadness that lurked behind Armitage’s cold front. He scraped his lower lip with his teeth. “So why isn’t he here?”

“Techie is…ill.” Armitage’s fingers tapped on the arm of his chair, eyes locked on Matt. “I’m not sure how much he has mentioned, but he has been ill for a long time.” The corner of Armitage’s mouth twitched, and he let out a sigh. “Today just happens to be one of the bad days. I’m sorry about your date.”

Matt shook his head. “It’s okay.” He swallowed, not willing to give up that easily. “Would he be well enough for me to visit, at least?”

Armitage blinked, clearly surprised. “Well”—His gaze flicked towards the ceiling,—“I don’t see why not.”

“I won’t stay long, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Matt said. “I just want to make sure he’s okay.”

To Matt’s surprise, Armitage patted him on the back of the hand. “So do I.” He rose to his feet, gesturing for Matt to follow. “Come on, I’ll let you through this way. No point going back out in the rain.”

Sliding aside the bookcase door, Armitage led Matt up to the second level of the shop. “We don’t usually let people up to this floor. The books here are mostly for research.”

Matt’s eyes widened in the gloom and he peered at the masses of books, scattered around and piled high, far less organised than the precisely labelled shelves downstairs. “Wow, what are you researching?”

Armitage seemed to freeze, hand on the handle of another door. His shoulders tensed and he pursed his lips for a second, not meeting Matt’s eye. His voice was low when he spoke. “I’m searching for a way to stop Techie’s illness.”

“You? But surely doctors—”

“Can’t do anything,” Armitage interrupted, wrenching the door open as if it had somehow angered him. “Now come on.”

Matt followed.

The door led to a small stairwell and, glancing downwards, Matt could see the street entrance to the flat. The pounding of the rain still sounded from outside, making him glad that Armitage had taken him this way. 

The door to the flat was painted green, flowers and little vines stencilled around the frame. It was Techie’s work, presumably, given the flowers, and Matt smiled as Armitage led him through, walking softly. Matt hung back, just in case Techie was asleep.

“Techie? Are you awa— William Hux! You are supposed to be resting.” Matt could just see Techie’s outline in the candlelit room, peering out of the window overlooking the street.

“Oh shut up, Armitage; you sound like Mum. I _was_ resting. I just…I woke up, and it was after six— Armie, what if Matt doesn’t want to see me?”

“I don’t think you need to worry about that.” Armitage nodded to Matt, signalling that he could come in, and Techie let out a little noise of surprise.

“Um, hi, Matt.” 

It was quite clear that Techie was not well: his hair hung lank and greasy, his eyes a dark mess of red and purple circles. He was dressed in pyjama trousers and a baggy yellow t-shirt that draped across his narrow shoulders, swamping the slim lines of his body. The light was low, a single lamp and a scatter of candles on the living room table. A mass of blankets lay on the couch like an empty nest and Matt wanted nothing more than to wrap them around Techie and hold him close.

“Hey, um…I hope it’s all right that Armitage brought me up. I just…I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Techie nodded. “I’m just a little exhausted, is all.” He slumped onto the couch, patting the seat next to him. “Do you want to sit with me for a while?”

Matt nodded, teeth scraping his lower lip. “If you’re not too tired.” He slipped past Armitage, who rolled his eyes.

“I’ll be downstairs if you need anything. Matt, tea and coffee are in the kitchen, if you want any. _Don’t_ let Techie get it for you. He’s supposed to be resting.”

“Sure thing,” Matt said, slipping onto the couch leaving plenty of room between himself and Techie. He froze as Techie immediately scooted up, his thigh and Matt’s almost touching. Glancing over his shoulder, Matt caught a glimpse of amusement on Armitage’s face, though it was immediately chased away by a wistful sadness.

The sound of the door closing left them in silence.

“So…” Matt began, “how are you feeling?”

“Honestly?” Techie said. “Not so good. My eyes can’t handle light very well, so I’ve been sitting in the dark all day. _Everything_ hurts, so I don’t wanna move, and I am completely exhausted.” 

“Are you cold?” Matt said, and Techie shrugged, wincing at the movement.

“Not too bad. I have plenty of blankets.”

“Oh, okay,” Matt said, shifting awkwardly, feeling himself begin to blush. “I was gonna say, if you were cold…I could maybe, put my arm around you?”

“Oh!” Techie blinked at Matt, spots of pink rising on his cheeks. “Maybe I am a little cold, then.” He slid into the crook of Matt’s arm, head resting on his shoulder, hand coming to rest atop Matt’s own.

Heart pounding, Matt threaded their fingers together. He felt as if his every nerve were jangling, so unused to the touch of another person. It was almost overwhelming: the warmth, the weight, the gentle rise and fall of Techie’s breath. Matt could feel the hairs on his arm standing on end and shivered as Techie unlaced their fingers to brush one fingertip up to his elbow and back, tracing the veins beneath his skin.

Matt’s heart was speeding, his breath catching a little as he slid his hand down Techie’s arm. He could feel the soft warmth of bare skin and Techie seemed to sigh into the touch, nuzzling slightly into Matt’s chest.

“I’m glad you came to see me,” Techie murmured. “I thought I’d ruined our date. We can do something nice when I’m feeling better, though.”

Matt gave Techie’s arm a little squeeze, feeling a thrill of excitement at the contented sigh he received in return. “I don’t know about you, but this is pretty nice as is.”

Techie glanced up at Matt, a small smile on his lips. “You’re right. It is.”

Conversation was minimal, but Matt couldn’t complain; Techie was warm, his head a gentle pressure against Matt’s chest. He’d laced their fingers back together and, for once, Matt’s mind was silent. Techie’s breathing had deepened and before Matt knew it he was snoring gently, drooling slightly on the wool of Matt’s jumper.

Matt couldn’t bring himself to care.

Shifting as carefully as possible, Matt pulled one of the blankets to cover Techie completely. He considered moving, but only for a moment; the instant he shifted, Techie held tighter, mumbling something that Matt couldn’t understand. He contented himself with watching the play of candlelight on the walls, the flickering flames splitting shadows in two and making them dance. He could feel his own breath slowing and his eyelids growing heavy.

A noise behind Matt had him jolting, and he looked up to see Millicent peering at him from the back of the couch. She purred softly, staring Matt in the face. “Hiya, Millie,” he said, lifting his hand to pet her arched back. She mewed in return.

With a yawn and a stretch, Millicent leapt from the couch and paused in the corner of the room, staring into the shadows. Once more she purred, arching her back as if being petted and meowed in the direction of the empty corner.

Matt frowned, peering into the darkness, head tilted. There was definitely nothing there. Techie mumbled in his arms, turning Matt’s attention back to him, and Matt smiled. With one finger he brushed a strand of hair from Techie’s cheek, stroking gently at the soft, slightly sallow skin.

The candles flickered, shadows fluttering for a second, and Matt glanced over his shoulder, hearing the sound of the door opening. Armitage was back.

He peered into the living room. “I’m making tea, if you want some. Everything okay here?”

Matt nodded. “Techie’s sleeping, so I think I’m gonna head home.” He extracted himself from the clinging arms, which only succeeded in waking Techie up. He blinked blearily, rubbing at the red circles of his eyes, blood rushing to his cheeks.

“Oh, god, I fell asleep.” He caught a glimpse of Matt’s front. “And I drooled on you. I’m the worst date ever; I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Matt said. “It’s been nice, but you’re ill. You should rest. We’ll go out soon, okay?”

“At least let me walk you to the door.” Techie rose shakily to his feet, and the sound of Armitage’s voice wafted through the air.

“Just the inside door. It’s still wet out there.” He appeared from the kitchen just as Matt entered the hallway, pulling the door open. “I’ll get the bottom door locked after you.”

The chill air outside fought with the warm glow of the flat and as Matt pulled his coat back on his eye was caught. The window where Armitage stood was fogged, as if someone had leaned against it, painting the pane with the fog of their breath. Matt blinked as Techie pulled him in close, his hair whispering across Matt’s lips.

“I’ll see you soon?”

Matt nodded, turning back to the window, confusion bubbling up within him. He’d sworn it had been blank when he’d looked before, but not now.

There, in the centre, drawn by an invisible finger, was a single heart.

Matt tilted his head; surely Armitage hadn’t drawn it. As far as he could tell, he was set on maintaining his air of nonchalance, of being as cold as the rain now blanketing the town. He wandered into view, mug in hand, gaze flicking towards the clouded glass before shooting Matt a glare that sent ice through his stomach.

“Bye, then,” Matt said, heat creeping up his cheeks as Techie pulled him into a brief hug. Behind them, Armitage turned away, a look of infinite sadness passing across his face. He raised a hand towards the window, barely touching the cold pane, finger moving to trace the heart that was drawn there.


	4. Kisses

The nights were getting longer, the weather starting to turn, reaching the time of year that Matt hated most of all. He could feel the pressure building in his head, the all consuming void that threatened to swallow him whole.

He should be pleased, he knew. Techie was feeling better and his strength was starting to return. They’d even made it out for dinner a couple of times, albeit just to the pizza place a few streets from the bookshop.

Still, though, something was rising in Matt, a solid uncertainty that sat on his heart like a lead weight. He and Techie still hadn’t kissed, and that insidious little shadow in Matt’s brain seemed insistent on casting doubts on the nature of their relationship, no matter how happy Techie seemed when they were together. Matt tried to fight it, he really did, and the effort just compounded the tiredness that was starting to set in.

“We should do something on Halloween night,” Techie said, voice breaking through the fog in Matt’s head and making him blink. They were in the bookshop, sat together in one of the armchairs while Techie fiddled with copper wire and Matt drifted inside his own mind.

“What?” Confusion filled Matt, tinged with the guilt of not listening to Techie. “Like, with costumes or something?” Matt frowned and Techie let out a giggle.

“No. Unless you really want to.” He slipped his hand into Matt’s own, voice lowering to a sultry tone that made Matt’s skin tingle. “I just thought we could go to your place for a change.”

Matt nodded, tongue suddenly feeling too big for his own mouth. “I—ah, I can cook for us if you like.”

“Great.” Techie smiled that sun-bright smile that never failed to break through the shadows in Matt’s mind. “I’ll meet you here?”

Matt nodded mutely, still trying to process his own thoughts. Everything seemed muddied, his senses dulled, reaction times far too slow. He was worried. The symptoms were nothing new; he was heading for a rough patch and he didn’t think there was anything he could do to stop it.

He didn’t want to burden Techie with his issues; he had enough to think about with his own ill health. Matt would just have to deal with it as he always had. At least for now he had something to occupy his time: making his flat presentable.

It took a few days; Matt had no idea he even owned half of the junk that was strewn throughout the place, but by the time he was finished, he was determined to keep the place nice. Every surface gleamed; all his books were tidied in the new shelves. He’d washed the windows, cleaned the floors, refilled his bird feeder, and then dragged his recipe books back out to figure out what to cook for Techie. Fresh air streamed in through the open windows and for quite possibly the first time, Matt felt some pride in his home.

There was a warm tinge that night as Matt went to pick Techie up, a charge to the air that made Matt’s skin tingle and his hair stand on end. Whether nerves or anticipation, Matt could not tell.

The bookshop was emitting its usual warm glow as Matt made his way up the lane. He could already smell the flowers of the hanging baskets, their blooms bright and vibrant in the dying light of the evening. He slipped inside, only to be greeted by Armitage, before the bell had even finished ringing.

“Matt, nice to see you.” Armitage was smiling and Matt couldn’t help but feel a little unnerved. The closest he’d ever seem to a smile was the little flickers he’d glimpsed whenever Armitage interacted with Techie. To see him practically grinning, the usual tension all but gone from his shoulders, was almost unnatural.

“You’re looking well, Armitage,” Matt said, flinching slightly as Armitage clapped him on the shoulder.

“I’m feeling well.” Armitage smiled again, an echo of the expression Matt was so familiar with on Techie. It was slightly duller, though, less practiced, a sunset more than a bright afternoon. “Incidentally,” Armitage continued, “Techie has been feeling a lot better this last week. I’m sure you two will have a good night.”

“Um, thanks,” Matt said, raising an eyebrow and jolting slightly as the hidden bookcase door slid aside to reveal Techie, also smiling, a bouquet of flowers in his hands.

His usual shabby layers were gone, replaced with a simple pair of dark jeans and a white shirt beneath a forest-green jumper. Techie’s hair was tied back in a tail, exposing the tattoo on his neck, which was only partially covered by a grey scarf that Matt had the sneaking suspicion Armitage had insisted he wear.

“Hi, Matt,” Techie said, sounding slightly breathless. He thrust out the flowers, which Matt recognised as a mixture of lilacs, anemones, and gardenia, and Matt could feel the blood rising to his cheeks.

“Wow,” he mumbled taking the bouquet in his hands. “No one’s ever given me flowers before.”

“Well, there’s a first time for everything,” Armitage said, with another disarming smile. “You both have a lovely evening.”

“You too, Armie,” Techie said, surprising Matt by stepping forward to give his brother a tight hug. “Enjoy your night.”

“Thank you.” Armitage smiled again, opening the door to let Matt and Techie pass.

“Does your brother have a date or something?” Matt asked, peering through the glass of the door to take in Armitage. He was still in his usual black, but a suit this time, form-fitting and perfectly pressed, showing off long legs and narrow hips. An idle part of Matt’s mind couldn’t help but wonder how Techie would look in something similar.

“Something like that.” Techie smiled. “It’s a special night.”

“Good for him,” Matt said, switching the flowers to one hand and taking Techie’s in his other. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen him smile, before now.”

“Well it hasn’t been easy,” Techie said. “Trying to keep everything together after we uh…moved here.”

Matt simply nodded, noting how Techie’s hand had tightened in his own.

They walked through the town in pleasant conversation, catching a few glimpses of children making their way around houses in costume, and Techie smiled. “I always loved guising when we were younger.”

“Big fan of Halloween, then?”

Techie breathed deep, eyes shining as he looked at the sky, a light flush on his cheeks. “There’s just something in the air; can you feel it?” He met Matt’s eyes, smiling softly. “You know they say the veil between worlds is thinnest tonight; maybe that’s why.”

“There’s no one on that side who’d want to see me,” Matt said as they reached the gate leading to his place. He unlatched it, watching Techie’s face as he got the first glimpse of where Matt lived. He was smiling.

“It’s definitely your place,” Techie said. “That must be the garage you’ve been telling me about. You live above, right?”

“Yeah, and if you wanna come up, dinner just needs a few touches.” Matt smiled as he slipped his arm about Techie’s waist and led him towards the door.

“Oh, pretty trees,” Techie said, glancing over the saplings on either side of the door. “Rowan and holly? You know the druids saw them as symbols of protection?”

A dull stab shot through Matt’s guts and he shook his head, mumbling as he fumbled for his keys, “I didn’t know that. My dad was the one who planted them.”

Seeming to sense his tone, Techie gave a gentle squeeze to Matt’s shoulder. “I’m so glad I could come out tonight. It feels like I'm trapped in that shop sometimes.” He sighed, pouting. “I hate being ill.”

Matt swallowed, eyes drawn to the inviting pink softness of Techie’s lips. He wet his own. “Well, you're out tonight. We should make the most of it.”

“You're right,” Techie said, grabbing for Matt’s arm. “Now maybe you can give me a tour of your place?”

Matt snorted, leading Techie up the uneven wooden stairs. “There's not enough to justify a tour, but if you insist.” He opened the main door, pointing down the hall. “Here we have the main entrance hall, which is, incidentally, the only hall. It leads to the bathroom down there, and right next to it is my bedroom.” Matt pretended he didn't see Techie's pale eyebrows rise in interest at that and continued, “This door here leads to the living room, comprising a couch and a table and not much else, and the only other door available is the kitchen, where I have dinner almost ready for us.”

Techie grinned, brightening the dull hallway considerably. “I love it.” he said. “What did you make?”

“Nothing fancy. Chicken parmesan and salad. Is that okay for you?”

Techie raised his eyebrows, a half smile quirked on his lips. “More than okay.” He reached up, brushing a strand of Matt’s hair behind his ear, only for it to spring back out again. “You’re amazing.”

Matt could feel his ears burning, the quiver of doubt that threaded through him quashed for the time being. His gaze was drawn to the soft curve of Techie’s lips and the pink tinge just starting to colour his cheeks. He flicked his tongue out, inhaling and dipping his head just as Techie turned away.

“Are those the shelves you built? That’s so cool. I wish I knew how to build things. I’m jealous.” Techie wandered further down the hall, peering around in curiosity and stopping to sniff the air. “Dinner smells great, too.” He was rambling slightly, fingers twisted in his sleeves, never staying on one topic for long. Matt could feel his nerves starting to twitch.

Surely Techie had realised Matt wanted to kiss him? And he’d turned away. It stung.

Matt ran his fingers through his hair. Okay, maybe Techie hadn’t realised. But he was determined now; before the night was out, he was going to kiss him. He wasn’t going to let the nerves stop him; the only thing that would stop him would be Techie saying no. Or would it be too weird to ask? He wasn’t sure. He wanted to be spontaneous, but he didn’t want to do something Techie was uncomfortable with. Why was it so hard? Something as simple as a kiss shouldn’t give him this much trouble. Matt breathed deep, trying to quash the spiking anxiety.

He needed to stop overthinking things.

“Matt?” Techie peered at him, a quizzical half smile on his face. “Everything okay?”

“Y-yeah, um, yeah. I was just thinking about what else I need to do for dinner,” Matt said, fingers unconsciously tightening in his sleeves at the lie.

“Well, let me help you,” Techie said, taking the flowers from Matt’s hand and laying them on the countertop. “I can’t let you do _all_ the work tonight.”

“Well, um, you could set the table?” Matt said, hand brushing through his hair. It was so unusual to see Techie in his apartment. He made the whole place seem so much more like home.

Techie smiled, brightening both the kitchen and Matt’s mood in a single moment. “Just point me to the cutlery.”

Dinner, on the whole, was quite pleasant, at least when Matt was able to surface from his own thoughts for long enough to carry a conversation. He knew he was being a bad date; he could see the tiny flash of hurt in Techie’s eyes every time he needed to repeat what he’d said to Matt. And every little flash burned him to the core.

Matt was trying to keep on top of things, he really was, but every little slip-up made the pressure build more and more, confirming everything he thought about himself: he was useless; he was dull; he didn’t deserve anything nice, especially someone like Techie. 

“So…um, I have dessert, if you want some,” Matt said, fighting his hardest to save the night from himself. He rose from the table and pulled a black forest tart from the fridge with a smile. He was pretty pleased with how it had turned out, if he did say so himself, and if Techie’s wide eyes were any indication, then that pride was not unfounded. “We can eat it on the couch and I’ll light some candles or something.”

Techie’s expression brightened. “Ooh, romantic! I like it.”

Matt smiled, blush rising on his cheeks. “Okay, I’ll go deal with the candles and you can get the plates for this. Don’t bother with the dishes; I’ll get them later.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

Candles lit, Matt peered at his reflection in the window, trying in vain to smooth his hair. He frowned at his own face, not noticing Techie enter the room and set the dessert on the living room table. He jolted as a hand came out to grasp his shoulder and Techie gently turned him so they were face-to-face.

“Matt? Is everything all right? You’ve seemed distant all night.” Techie’s eyes were wide, clear and blue. “Did I do something wrong?”

Matt’s breath caught in his throat, colour rising to his cheeks and making them burn. He wet his lips, indecision fluttering through his stomach. He swallowed, placing a hand on Techie’s shoulder, anchoring himself and strengthening his resolve.

“I’m sorry. I’ve been distracted.” Matt’s ears were burning now. “I just— I keep thinking, if it’s okay...I really want to kiss you.”

“Oh!” Techie’s eyes widened and a delicate flush washed over his cheeks, making them glow. He gave a shy smile. “Yes, please.”

Closing his eyes against the rising wave of panic, Matt leaned forwards, lips pursed. He could feel the warmth of Techie’s breath playing across his skin and pulled back as his nose collided with Techie’s cheek, prodding as their lips barely brushed.

“Sorry,” Matt whispered.

Techie’s hands landed on his hips in a tentative embrace, gently pulling him closer.

“Don’t be.”

His lips fluttered across Matt’s, soft and sweet, parting slightly as Techie grew bolder. Lips caught lips, fumbling hands relaxing into a more secure hold, and Matt could feel his heart pounding wildly between their chests, where they were pressed together.

Techie’s shoulders seemed to sag as he sighed into the kiss and Matt followed, a sliver of pure golden happiness taking root inside him. He smiled against Techie’s lips and, emboldened by his happy little noises, Matt gently slipped his lips open, the tip of his tongue _just_ catching Techie’s lower lip and making him gasp.

A flutter of panic had Matt blinking his eyes open. This was how it was supposed to go, right? He could feel his breath catch in his tightening chest. Just when was he supposed to breathe, anyway?

The warm brush of Techie’s tongue against his own chased all thought from Matt’s mind. All he could process was the sweet taste of Techie’s mouth and just how perfectly his slim body seemed to fit against his own chest. Their tongues twined together in a long slide that sent a coil of pure heat curling through Matt’s entire body.

The long lingering insecurities seemed to flee in an instant. Techie was here; Techie was kissing him. And although he didn’t have much scope for comparison, Matt thought he might actually be doing quite well. Techie’s fingers clenched tight on Matt’s hips with the next swipe of his tongue, making him moan out a low ‘Mmm’ of pleasure. His hands stroked down the narrow ridges of Techie’s spine, smoothing down the silken tail of his hair to rest at his lower back, circling gently. Techie practically purred, pulling away from Matt’s lips and making him whine at the loss of contact. He lay his head on Matt’s shoulder with a gentle sigh. 

Trailing his fingers through the copper strands, Matt closed his eyes, relaxing and twisting them around and over his knuckles before letting them fall, simply enjoying the feeling of Techie in his arms.

They stood that way for a long while, basking in the warmth and silence. Matt’s couch was only a few steps away, yet moving did not seem to be an option. Eventually, though, Techie spoke, a slight breathlessness to his voice.

“I’m not sure dessert can live up to that.” 

Matt flushed, hand still stroking at Techie’s hair. His mind, for the time being, was silent.

A pink haze of happiness washed over Matt as they settled on the couch. He kept one arm around Techie’s shoulders, holding him tight. Eventually, they ate, Techie alternating between bites of his own and spooning forkfuls into Matt’s mouth. Every so often he’d press a light kiss to his lips. They didn't speak, but it was a comfortable silence.

Eventually, though, Matt’s arm began to ache and he reluctantly pulled it from around Techie's shoulders. “Do you wanna watch a movie or something?” he asked.

Techie stretched, a small pout on his face. “I really should think about going back home at some point. I promised Armie I wouldn't be too late, since I only just started feeling better.” He sighed, not making any attempt to move.

“Before I do go, though,” he started, gaze dropping to his fingers twisted in the hem of his jumper. “Kiss me again?”

Matt pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose in an attempt to hide the wave of heat rapidly washing over his cheeks.

“Sure.”

This kiss lasted a lot longer, and before Matt knew it he was on his back on the couch, one hand tangled in Techie’s hair. He was panting slightly, and, to his satisfaction, so was Techie.

“You taste like dessert,” Techie said, tongue swiping across his lips and sending a shiver up Matt’s spine. 

“Really? You taste better.”

Techie's cheeks brightened and he pushed himself up from where he was sprawled across Matt’s chest. “I don’t want to go home yet.”

“You don’t have to,” Matt said. He was quite content to have Techie in his arms for the rest of the night.

“I know, but I did promise.” Techie raised an eyebrow. “Do you know what it's like to have an overprotective twin?”

Matt shook his head. Had the world turned out differently, he probably would have _been_ the overprotective big brother. As it was, he could understand where Armitage was coming from. Matt may not have been able to keep his own shit together, but he was already determined to look after Techie.

“Will Armitage be back from his date?” Matt asked. He didn’t like the thought of Techie alone in the darkened maze of books that awaited him back at the shop. Maybe it was because it was Halloween, but something about the image unnerved him. “I can walk you home, if you like.”

Techie smiled, the pink tinge of his cheeks making him almost glow in the dim candlelight of Matt’s apartment. He looked healthier than he had in a while; the sickly yellow tinge had disappeared from his skin, his eyes were bright and clear, and his cheeks rounder and fuller, almost matching his kiss-swollen lips. A burst of relief bubbled up in Matt’s chest at the sight.

Twining their fingers together, Techie pressed a soft kiss to Matt’s cheek.

“If it’s all right with you, I think I’d like to walk myself.” Techie dropped his head to nuzzle his nose against Matt’s stubble. “The night air will do me good.”

“Okay, if you’re sure,” Matt said, already losing himself in the familiar smoky incense scent of Techie’s hair. “I’ll see you soon?”

“You can see me tomorrow, if you like,” Techie said with the smallest of smirks. “Unless you’ve got car stuff, or work.”

Matt’s thoughts turned briefly to the Capri downstairs before he caught sight of the hopeful glint in Techie’s eyes. He shook all thoughts of mechanics from his mind.

“I don’t have work until tomorrow afternoon. I can drop by for a little while in the morning.” He gave Techie a little nudge with his elbow. “Maybe your brother can tell us all about his date.”

Techie’s nose wrinkled and Matt let out a low chuckle at his expression of disgust. “I’d really rather not know,” Techie said.

“Okay, gotcha.” Matt smiled, although he could already feel the familiar creeping shadow at the edge of his mind, the steady weight of another night in the endless parade of nights spent alone. It settled on his shoulders, constricting his chest. Techie had already stepped away and was heading for the door. Matt felt a pang of want. He wasn’t ready for Techie to leave. 

As if sensing Matt’s thoughts, Techie turned, hand held out towards him, a beseeching smile on his lips.

“Maybe just one more kiss?”

By the time Techie left, the waxing moon was already high in the night sky, not quite full but still casting enough pale light for Matt to watch the sway of Techie’s hair as he walked away. He turned only once, waving goodbye to Matt where he stood at the window.

Starting to clear away the dinner plates, Matt couldn’t help but run his tongue across his lips, catching the last remaining taste of Techie that clung to them. He pressed his fingertips to his mouth, knowing that nothing now would compare to the sensation of Techie’s lips, so soft and sure against his own.

Heat was stirring in Matt’s gut and he idly brushed a hand beneath his shirt, rough fingers scraping across the sensitive softer skin of his stomach. He trailed through the line of hair, glancing around—despite knowing his apartment would be as empty as always—before he slipped his hand beneath the waistband of his jeans.

In his mind, Matt attempted to recreate the press of Techie’s body against his, the shy caress of his lips, the firm yet gentle grip of hands on his hips, soft and warm, yet still so steady. He palmed at himself wondering what Techie might think if he could see him now.

What if Techie liked it?

Matt froze, eyes opening and hand stilling. A cold wave of panic rose in his stomach, washing over him and dousing the flicker of arousal. He was completely unprepared for something like that.

If Techie wanted more, what then?

If he wanted to take things further, then that would be great, and Matt could certainly _try_. But then, what if he was no good? What if Techie just laughed at him? What if things were just awful and awkward and the tentative stirrings of happiness that Matt had finally found after _so_ long were completely ruined by the fact that he was a terrified, useless, twenty-nine-year-old fucking virgin.

Matt swallowed, screwing his eyes up in a vain attempt to shut out the all-consuming blackness of his own thoughts. It had been a nice night. Why was this happening now?

He clenched his fists at his sides, any potential desire firmly quashed by the icy shards of self-loathing that stabbed into his gut. Backing himself into the countertop, Matt slid down, slowly sinking to curl in on himself on the floor. His glasses slipped down his nose, vision already splintering through the barely suppressed tears in his eyes. Matt’s fists clenched in his hair, gripping tight in an attempt to ground himself in some way.

Chest constricted by the iron bands of fear and loathing, Matt buried his face in his arms. He wished his dad were here; he’d always known what to do when Matt was upset.

It was no use though; he was gone and Matt was here, fucking up what few potential relationships he had. He clenched his hand into a tight fist, pounding hard at the hard wood of the cabinet behind him, hitting so hard the cupboards rattled, over and over until finally the blooming pain brought him back to his senses.

Matt swallowed against the hard lump in his throat, shakily rising to his feet and cradling his bruised fist to his chest. The flowers Techie had brought still lay by the sink, slowly drying out without water. Matt barely glanced at them and pushed his glasses back up his nose.

He went to the garage.

_Just work. Don’t think. Focus on the car._

Matt worked, sanding down the bubbled flaking rust that dotted the body of the car. He ignored the throbbing in his head; he brushed aside the wracking pains in his chest. When one patch was done he moved on.

Matt worked, smoothing away everything that marred the metal surface. He ignored the hunger that started to gnaw in the pit of his stomach; he brushed aside the tiredness that started to burn around his eyes. He gritted his teeth and moved on.

Matt worked, focused on nothing more than the steady scrape of sandpaper. He ignored the changing play of night to day to night; he brushed aside the insistent buzzing of his phone. When his muscles started to ache and his head began to droop, he moved on.

*****

“I’m sorry I missed your call. Sure, I’ll be in next week. I’m still sick. I just need a few more days.”

The words sounded like they were coming from far away instead of his own mouth, and Matt barely registered his supervisor’s reply.

“It’s fine. Everyone has sick days, Matt, and I don’t think you’ve used any since you started. Just call next time. We’ll see you Monday. Feel better.”

Matt heaved a sigh as the phone cut off with a click. “I would if I could.”

He lay staring at the ceiling, blanket wrapped around him. Calling his work had taken most of the energy he seemed to have for the day and even putting on his glasses seemed too much at this point. Pressing his face to the pillow, Matt closed his eyes. He was surprised they’d even noticed he’d missed his shift. At least he still had a job, for now; although it was probably only a matter of time before he messed that up, too.

Time passed, Matt couldn’t tell how much. A glance at his phone showed another missed call from Techie and through the grey cloud of numbness Matt could feel a wrench of guilt; he hadn’t even heard it ring.

He couldn’t bring himself to call back. Techie didn't deserve an unstable mess of a man in his life. He'd be better off without him. Hauling the blankets back over his head, Matt curled into a ball, letting sleep claim him.

The next time he woke it was to a tapping at his bedroom door and he blinked, bleary eyed and confused.

“Matt? It’s me. I tried to phone you and when I got here your front door was unlocked. I just wanted to check that you were okay,” Techie’s voice sounded from the other side of the door. “I'll go away if you want.”

“Whatever,” Matt groaned, fingers clenching in his sheets. Great, now Techie got to see him for the pathetic excuse for a life he was. He squeezed his eyes shut, willing tears not to come.

“Okay, I'm going to come in then.” Techie’s footsteps were light and all Matt could hear was the creaking of the floorboards before a light weight settled on the edge of the bed. A tentative hand brushed over the blanket where his shoulder was. “I've been worried about you, you know.”

Matt scrunched up his face, shaking his head slightly. “Why?”

“Because I care about you! You're my...um, my boyfriend. Aren't you?”

“Really?” Matt said, shifting the blanket to peer out at Techie. “Even after seeing me like this?”

Techie smiled reaching one finger to brush a curl from Matt’s cheek. “Of course.” He shrugged. “You've seen me when I'm sick.” He bent down, pressing a kiss to Matt’s forehead. “Speaking of which, Armitage made you some soup, if you feel up to eating.”

“Maybe,” Matt said. “Later.”

“Sure.” Techie gave a gentle smile. “Do you want me to go?”

Matt shook his head. He reached one hand from amidst his blankets and lay it atop Techie’s own. 

The skin-to-skin contact made him shiver, bringing a bloom of warmth into the cold, hard pit of Matt’s stomach. He slid his other arm out, wrapping himself completely around Techie and pressing close.

“I'm sorry. I'm so sorry,” Matt whispered into the soft fabric of Techie’s shirt, squeezing tight, not willing to let go of the first source of warmth he'd felt in days.

“Why are you sorry? It's okay,” Techie said, one hand smoothing across Matt’s back.

“I’m a mess. In every way,” Matt mumbled, cringing slightly as Techie stroked his hair, yet still arching into the touch. “I haven’t washed. I must smell terrible.” 

“You’re fine,” Techie soothed. “Do you want me to lie with you for a while?”

Matt nodded, watching as Techie pulled off his shoes and scarf. “Sorry if my hands are a little cold,” he said, sliding under the covers alongside Matt and wrapping his arms around him. 

Matt pressed his nose to Techie’s chest, sighing as slim fingers began to stroke through his hair again. “I don’t deserve this,” he murmured. 

“Lies,” Techie said, and Matt squeezed tight in an attempt to hide the shaking not-quite sob that threatened to break from him. Techie held tighter. “It's okay,” he whispered. 

Shuddering, Matt simply buried his face in Techie’s shirt as if he could somehow escape his own body by pressing into Techie’s. His thoughts were tangled and sluggish, and before Matt knew it he was asleep again.

A tinkling ring breaking through the fog. A whispered voice.

“Hi, Armie. Yeah. No, I'm fine. Matt’s just sleeping.”

A slight shift of the warmth around him.

“Yeah. He's…a little under the weather. No. No, later.”

A huff of breath.

“No. I'm fine, Armitage. I am _not_ too sick. I am fine to go out. No.”

A tut of impatience. 

“That was one time. I haven't passed out since then. No. Okay, okay, fine. I'll be back later. See you then, Armie.”

Matt leaned up on an elbow as Techie slid his phone back into a pocket. “You're sick again?”

Techie gave an exasperated sigh. “I'm fine, honestly.”

The urge to protect was rising in Matt’s chest and he raised a hand to push back Techie's hair and peer at his face.

He was pale, paler than when Matt had last seen him, and the red circles were starting to bloom beneath his eyes again. Matt raised an eyebrow. “Even so.”

“Matt, if I stayed inside every time I felt a little ill then I'd never leave the shop. I'm not getting any better, so if I want to come look after my boyfriend, I will. Do you have a problem with that?”

Techie’s cheeks were flushed red, his lips pink and pouting and before Matt realised it, he was laughing. It spilled out as freely as his earlier tears and the only reaction he could think of was to cup Techie’s cheek and pull him in for a kiss.

“No, I don't have a problem with that,” Matt said. “I'm glad you came over.” He stretched, remembering for the first time that he wasn’t wearing anything besides his underwear. Blood rushed to his cheeks, the flush of embarrassment more sensation than he'd felt in days.

“Do you feel like having some soup now?” Techie said as he rolled off the bed, eyes conspicuously fixed on the floor.

“Um, yeah, I’ll just get a shirt on or something.” Matt said, watching as a flicker of disappointment flitted over Techie’s features.

“You—ah, you don’t need to do that on my account.” Techie peered out from under his eyelashes, cheeks steadily turning pinker as he gazed at Matt’s bare torso.

With an odd flutter of pride Matt stretched his arms again, more for show this time, and was rewarded with even more blushes from Techie. A smile was curling his lips as he picked up what he hoped was a clean t-shirt and climbed out of bed for what felt like the first time in days. His limbs still felt like lead and his head ached, but Techie had taken the time to come to see him, so Matt was going to make an effort. He really wanted a shower now, conscious of how grimy his skin was starting to feel.

“Okay, I'm as respectable as I'm gonna get,” Matt said, pushing the lank curls of his hair behind his ears and sliding on his glasses to bring the edges of the world back into focus.

“Looking good.” Techie smiled, gaze momentarily flickering to Matt’s bare legs.

Matt shivered, and he wasn’t entirely sure it had been caused by the cold. Something about Techie’s gaze brought a spark to his stomach, fighting against the tight coils of anxiety that so often tied it in knots.

Flicking the switch on the heating as he passed, Matt led Techie into his kitchen. Clearly he'd already set everything up; clean bowls had been laid out on the table and a saucepan sat waiting on the hob. Matt raised an eyebrow. “You tidied the kitchen?”

Techie’s nose scrunched up. “I only moved a few things.” He let out a little squeak as Matt wrapped his arms around him, pressing his nose to Techie’s hair. 

“Thank you. Seriously. This is so sweet of you.” Matt pulled back, meeting Techie’s eyes and breathing deep, as if he were about to plunge into the blue depths. “I have the best boyfriend.”


	5. Intimacy

A few days later and Matt had started to feel human again. It had been one of the shortest rough patches he could remember, and he suspected that Techie had a lot to do with that.

Firm, yet gentle, Techie had suggested Matt start small: tidying a few things in his bedroom, making sure he ate, getting at least a few minutes of fresh air each day. It was simple, but it worked. Slowly Matt could feel his energy returning.

Today he sat at the kitchen table, watching the birds clamouring around his bird feeder. He was already dressed, although he had no plans to head out. He just hadn’t wanted to stay in bed any more. He wasn’t due back at work for another day, and he wasn’t entirely sure how to occupy himself. He supposed he could go work on the car, but it didn’t have the usual appeal.

Stretching out, Matt breathed deep, inhaling the scent of flowers. By some miracle, the bouquet Techie had given him hadn’t wilted or dried out, and now it sat in a jar on his kitchen table. Matt couldn’t help but smile every time he sat down.

“I think my dad would have liked you,” he’d told Techie. “You help me look after myself.”

“You’re the one doing the work, Matt,” Techie had said with a shake of his head. “He’d be proud of you.”

Matt had kissed him, then.

Smiling to himself, Matt stood, decision made. He was going to visit Techie. It was a Sunday, so the shop would be closed, and they'd have most of the day together.

Despite the winter chill just starting to make itself known, the town was vibrant, the sun hanging creamy yellow in the sky. The scent of smoke brought a warmth to the air that Matt could feel in his very bones. As he entered the lane he caught a flash of orange as Millicent ran along the top of a wall to greet him, rubbing against his knuckles and hopping down to follow him.

The door to the flat opened just as Matt reached it and Armitage appeared, pulling on his gloves. He looked Matt over, his expression neutral. 

“You look like you're feeling better,” he said, a flicker of a smile passing over his features.

“Yeah, not bad. Is Techie in? I didn’t think to call.”

“He is,” Armitage said. “Just head on up. I won’t be back for a while, but if you're still here then you're welcome to stay for dinner.”

“Thanks, Armitage. I might just do that.” Matt smiled. “Have a good day.”

“You, too.”

As Matt climbed the stairs he realised that Millie had disappeared, but the creak of the door to the upper level of the bookshop gave him a pretty good idea where she'd gone. 

Peering around the doorway, Matt saw nothing more than the shadowed stacks of books that rose from the floor like stalactites and the single moving spot that was Millie. She stopped, staring into the darkness for a moment before meowing.

Turning away, Matt shook his head. Cats were weird. 

With his foot poised on the upper step, Matt froze, a deep chill washing over him and rooting him to the spot. The hair had risen on the back of his neck, cold prickles that spiked directly into his nerves.

“—don't belong here. Need to get out.”

It was a whispered mutter, low and desperate, and Matt whipped around, searching for the source.

The shop was still empty.

Shadows stretched between the shelves, black monoliths in the gloom. As Matt wandered further in they seemed to shift and waver, making him twitch with every creak of the floorboards beneath his feet.

There was nothing here, he told himself, though more in hope than any real sense of surety.

The rows of ancient books betrayed nothing that could account for the creeping surge of dread that swept unbidden from the small of his back to the nape of his neck, prickling the small hairs in waves. He turned a corner past a pile of randomly stacked papers and stopped in his tracks, suddenly unsure if he had come this way before or if it was just another corridor of badly-bound and decrepit volumes, filed away to be forgotten. 

He was about to turn back the way he came when a low sound caught his ear, a slow pounding that seemed to emanate from the semi-darkness ahead of him: a clump followed by a thin scrape, one following the other in a tight rhythmic sequence, growing louder with each passing second and drawing inexorably closer towards him down the passageway, which only seemed to narrow around him, tighter and tighter, shelves drawing in around him. Matt wanted to call out, to ask who else was there, but he dared not for fear of drawing the thing closer. His breath came in a ragged wheeze as the noise became louder, so close now. His eyes widened and his legs quivered; he knew now that whatever this thing was, he couldn't run, even if he wanted to. It was near. It— 

The footsteps stopped.

All was silent again, save for the dull buzz of the ceiling bulb, and Matt could feel his heart pounding. He glanced around him, seeing nothing more than dust in the empty air. A cold sweat trickled down his back as he made his way back to the door, freezing as the sound of footsteps once more creaked towards him.

“Matt?” Techie’s voice floated through the gloom. “You know the shop is closed today. Did Armie let you in?”

Matt nodded, his tongue still dry, unable to form words in his parched mouth. However, the sheer cold in his stomach didn’t seem to show on his face, as Techie beamed at him, extending a hand.

“Well, come on upstairs then. Why were you even down here?”

Matt swallowed, summoning enough breath to mutter a single word, “Millicent.”

“Oh, don’t worry about her; she comes and goes as she pleases.” Techie slid his hand into Matt’s, lacing their fingers together and tugging gently. He peered at Matt’s face with a small frown. “Are you okay?”

“I—I heard footsteps,” Matt said, grateful for Techie at his side. The panic he’d felt was fading, replaced with a low burn of embarrassment, but he was sure he’d heard something.

Hadn’t he?

“It was probably just an echo from the flat,” Techie said, running a soothing hand up Matt’s arm. “Come on. It’s cold in here; you’re shivering.”

Matt followed, glancing back for an instant and seeing nothing but empty shadows. His neck prickled, the feeling of eyes following him an almost physical sensation that he resolutely ignored.

It was nothing.

The twins’ flat was indeed so much warmer than the shadowed shop downstairs, and Matt could feel his muscles starting to relax, helped along by the movement of Techie’s hand across his arm.

“I’m so glad you came over,” Techie said. “I was thinking we should do something today. I was gonna call you after lunch.”

“Hmm, great minds think alike,” Matt said, gently pulling Techie towards him and catching his mouth in a soft kiss.

Techie groaned, lips swiftly parting to allow Matt’s tongue to swirl around his own. He pressed close and Matt wrapped his arms completely about the slim frame. He rubbed circles down Techie’s back, but paused for a moment before hesitantly reaching lower and gently cupping Techie’s ass with one hand.

“Mmph—Matt!” Fingers tangling in Matt’s hair, Techie walked them backwards, kicking the living room door open with one foot and leading Matt down onto the couch. He all but clambered into Matt’s lap, all sharp angles and long limbs, and Matt gasped as he felt the distinct press of Techie’s hardening cock against his thigh.

Breathing deep, Matt pressed in for another kiss, butterflies dancing in his stomach. Techie’s kisses were getting more and more enthusiastic, his hands roving all over Matt, whose breathing was starting to speed.

A vice-like grip clenched within Matt’s chest and he could feel a wave of panic starting to rise. It was too much; he was out of his depth. Techie was in his lap, breath hot and kisses sweet, and yet the only sensation he could feel was fear. Brows creasing together, Matt tried to focus on Techie’s lips, his tongue, his hands—anything other than the panic welling inside him. He was doing this wrong, he had to be; why else wouldn’t his body be responding?

Techie trailed a hand up Matt’s thigh towards his resolutely soft cock and Matt pulled back, taking Techie’s wrist and gently pulling it away.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “It’s just— I’m not—” Matt could feel a red flush of shame creeping up his cheeks. “It’s a little too much. I’ve never done this before. I’m so worried I’m gonna do something wrong and you’ll hate me. I’m sorry.”

Techie blinked, his own cheeks rosy, matching his kiss-swollen lips. “Why would you be sorry?”

“Because”—Matt gestured to his lap—“you’re like—and this is, really hot, and I can’t—”

Techie’s lips, soft and gentle, cut off the sentence before Matt could finish it. “There’s nothing to apologise for. I got a little carried away.” He sat back, biting his lip slightly as his erection dragged across Matt’s thigh. “I’ve never done it, either; just so you know.” Techie joined their hands, meeting Matt’s eyes. “I don’t wanna do anything you’re not comfortable with. I _really_ like you, you know?”

Matt could feel the corners of his lips twitch into the smallest of smiles, and Techie wrapped his arms around him, Matt’s nose pressing into the crook of his neck. “The feeling’s mutual,” he whispered into the flower petals of Techie’s tattoo.

“So, what do you want to do? We can go for a walk or something,” Techie said, wincing slightly as he shifted, still hard against Matt’s thigh. “Just give me a minute or two.”

Biting his lip, Matt glanced down, an idea forming in his mind. 

It wasn’t too much, and he still wanted Techie to feel good. He could handle this. “Well, if you wanted, I could like, kiss you and stuff if you want to, y’know…take care of things?”

“Oh!” Techie’s eyes widened, blood rising to his cheeks and his breath speeding slightly, “Would that—would you be okay with that?”

Matt nodded, shifting to give Techie more room. “I mean, you could show me what you like, for, y’know, later. I mean I do want to do this kind of stuff with you, I’m just, not quite there yet.”

Techie’s throat bobbed as he swallowed, nodding. “Okay. If you’re definitely okay with it.” He slid from Matt’s lap to sit on the couch, biting his lip as he undid his trousers, giving Matt a tiny glimpse at tented black boxers.

Techie leaned back against Matt’s chest, tilting his head up to bring their lips together in a kiss that was all hot breath and sweet sighs. Techie reached inside his underwear, hand slowly stroking.

With one arm, Matt held Techie to his chest, his other hand rubbing gentle circles on the soft skin of Techie’s hip. He moaned into Matt’s mouth, making him sigh in contentment before he pulled away, gaze fixed on the steady movement of Techie’s hand, nose pressed to his incense-scented hair.

“Does it feel good?” Matt murmured against the curve of Techie’s ear. He felt him arch against him in response.

“So good.” Techie’s movements sped, and with his free hand he gripped tight at Matt’s thigh. He swallowed, voice lowering to an almost-whisper. “Do you know how many times I’ve done this and thought of you?”

Matt’s pulse was starting to rush, and he wet his lips, pressing them to Techie’s throat. “No. Tell me?”

Techie moaned, squirming against Matt. “I think about you touching me when I’m in the shower. All slow and slippery, like this.”

Matt looked down, eyes drawn to the fiery golden trail of hair and the long, smooth strokes of Techie’s hand. He held Techie a little tighter, fingers pressing into the soft curve of his hip, voice low as he whispered in his ear.

“What else do you think about?”

Techie whined, eyes slipping shut as he pressed his thighs together, hips circling. “I think about sucking your cock. Making you come in my mouth. Tasting you.”

Matt swallowed, tongue suddenly feeling too big. His eyes were fixed on Techie’s lap and the pumping movement of his hand beneath the fabric of his underwear. He could see the long line of Techie’s cock with each stroke and felt a pang at his own body’s refusal to react.

He pursed his lips, not wanting to focus on his own self-pity, instead watching the rise and fall of Techie’s chest, the flick of his wrist on every upstroke. Matt held him close, his thumb finding the hard pebble of Techie’s nipple beneath his t-shirt and stroking across it, matching Techie’s pace. 

“Anything else?”

Techie panted, the pink of his tongue flicking out to wet his lips. “ _Everything_ else!”

A shiver seemed to pass through Techie, and Matt could see a spot of dampness on his underwear. He smiled to himself before scraping his teeth across the shell of Techie’s ear and feeling him gasp out a moan. Techie’s hips moved, thrusting into his own fist, and he panted, “Ma-att. I’m not gonna last.”

Kissing the length of Techie’s neck, Matt buried his nose in his hair. “It’s okay, I’m here. I’ve got you. Let me see you.”

“Oh—oh, shit,” Techie gasped, folding in on himself, toes curling. He let out a whine, panting Matt’s name as he shuddered in his arms, the damp spot of his release spreading across the front of his underwear, soaking it through.

Matt, stared, mouth open, and Techie grabbed for him, making their noses bump together as he surged in for a hard kiss, knocking Matt’s glasses askew. “That was…wow.”

Nuzzling the slightly sweaty strands of Techie’s hair, Matt kissed at the pink marks he’d left on his neck, just visible over the ink. “I’ll say it was. You’re really amazing.”

“I’m really sticky, more like,” Techie said, nose wrinkling. “Let me just go get changed.”

He pressed his face against Matt’s chest for a few moments longer before sighing and getting up, awkwardly shuffling out of the room with one hand holding his trousers up. Matt smiled to himself, feeling accomplished despite the fact Techie had done all the work.

When Techie returned, he immediately snuggled back against Matt’s chest, propping his feet up on the couch and reaching for the TV remote. “Are you _sure_ there’s nothing I can do for you?” he asked, one hand rubbing Matt’s stomach.

“Not right now, but I will definitely let you know when I’m ready.” Matt kissed Techie’s forehead, settling back, more comfortable now that the air had been cleared.

They were both dozing by the time Armitage arrived home, completely unsurprised that Matt was still there.

“I had the feeling I’d need to buy enough for three people,” he said with a wry smile. “I hope Chinese is okay for everyone. No, not you.” Millicent twined around his ankles and it was only then that Matt remembered the footsteps downstairs.

“You know, I thought I heard something in the bookshop earlier. Do you guys have intruder alarms down there?”

Armitage’s shoulders stiffened and he glanced at Techie. “We do.”

Techie gave Matt a smile. “I’m sure it was just my footsteps you heard, Matt.”

Matt frowned, noticing that Techie’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I heard a voice, too, though.”

“A voice?” Armitage had turned his full attention on Matt, suddenly cold and imposing. “What did it say?” His fingers gripped tight on Matt’s shoulder. “Tell me everything.”

“I dunno, something about needing to get out. Why?” A flash of anger burned through Matt and he stood, brushing the hand aside, facing Armitage head on. “What does it mean to you?”

“Oh, _that_.” Techie stood, placing a far gentler hand on Matt’s arm. “Matt, sweetie, that was the movie I was watching earlier.” He shot a glare at his brother. “Armitage, sit down. Dinner is getting cold.”

“Yes...sorry. I don’t know why I’m getting so agitated,” Armitage said, running a hand over his face. He seemed to draw in on himself, glancing at Techie before sliding into his chair. “Matt, forgive my rudeness.”

“Yeah, sure, I’m sorry, too. It just shook me a little,” Matt said. He glanced from Techie to Armitage, noting that they both seemed to be sitting a little stiffer, tension radiating from them both.

Dinner was mostly silent, both Techie and Armitage exchanging glances whenever they thought Matt wasn’t looking. It made the hair on Matt’s neck prickle and by the time he left that evening, he could tell there was something unsaid in the air.

Techie walked him down to the street door and as he pulled Matt into an embrace, Matt met his eyes. “Techie, seriously, what’s going on?”

Techie kissed him, long and slow, before nuzzling into Matt’s neck. “I promise, it’s nothing you need to worry about. Armie has it under control.”

“Well, if you’re sure,” Matt said. “If there’s someone who seems good at control, it’s him.”

Techie giggled, squeezing Matt tight. “Thank you for, ah”—his gaze flickered downwards—“earlier.”

Matt could feel heat rising up his ears. “Oh, yeah, you’re...um, welcome?”

“Call me tomorrow and let me know how the first day back at work goes, okay?” Techie slipped his arms around Matt’s neck and pulled him in for a kiss that kept Matt warm the entire way home.

Even as he slid into bed that night, Matt could still feel the ghost of Techie’s lips on his. He could still hear the breathy little moans. He could still feel the sensation of Techie shuddering to completion against his chest. He could still smell the sweat on Techie’s skin.

It was with a groan that Matt rolled over, cock starting to swell inside his pyjamas. He slipped his hand beneath the waistband, muttering to himself, “Couldn’t have done this earlier, could you?” He ground against the mattress, hissing in a breath at the friction before reaching for the lube that sat on his bedside table. 

Smearing his hand, Matt stroked his length, picturing the arch of Techie’s spine as he’d made himself come. He arched into his own touch, mimicking the motions he’d seen Techie use earlier, flicking his wrist with every upwards stroke and moaning at the mental image of Techie’s hands on him instead. He rolled onto his back, spreading his knees to roll his balls with his free hand, spreading the excess lube over them and tentatively moving downwards.

Gently circling his hole with one fingertip, Matt pumped at his cock, squeezing beneath the head before swiping his thumb over the crown just as he pressed inwards. It wasn’t the first time he’d indulged in this particular act, but it was the first time he had a face to put to the sensations that washed through him.

In his mind, Techie sat between his knees, bathed in moonlight, a sly smile on his face as he pressed his fingers into Matt, curling them upwards to brush teasingly against his prostate. Matt groaned, pushing farther to press harder, biting his lip and increasing the pace of his hand. 

His cock was already starting to drip against his lower belly, pearly liquid sticking the dark hairs together. Matt imagined Techie’s smile when he noticed, eyes darkened with lust, maybe even swiping his finger through it to taste.

Slicking his fingers once more, Matt pictured Techie watching him, pale eyelashes fluttering on paler cheeks as he spread Matt open. He’d probably kiss him then, drinking in Matt’s breath as he slowly pushed inside. 

Matt moaned into his pillow, the fantasy almost to much for him. He rolled onto his knees, ass in the air, imagining the tight press of Techie’s fingers on his hips as he stroked his cock at a brutal pace, fingers curling inside of him but still not quite enough.

“Fuck! Fuck, Techie,” Matt panted, face pressed into his pillow as he frantically drove himself onto his own fingers, hips thrusting into the tight circle of his fist. He could hear Techie’s voice in his ears; those sweet, sweet moans pushing him closer and closer to the edge. “Yes, come on, just a little more— There, yes, there!”

His cock pulsed in his hand, coating the sheets with his release in three long spurts. Matt sagged forwards, body shuddering as he pulled his fingers out and he wrung the last few drops from his twitching cock. He winced at the wet patch, pulling his discarded underwear from the floor to wipe it as best he could. Matt exhaled, sated, before rolling to the other side of the bed and pulling the duvet around his shoulders.

He’d clean the sheets in the morning.

 

*****

 

To Matt’s surprise and relief, work didn’t seem to bother him as much for the next few days. Maybe it was the tension release that came from picturing Techie in his bed every night. Maybe he was just learning to deal with things better. Sure there were people being rude and unreasonable, but that wasn’t something he could control; he wasn’t going to take it personally. 

When Matt arrived home each evening, he prepared his lunch for the next day, made a start on dinner, and called Techie. It may have seemed monotonous to some, but for Matt this was the most stable routine he’d had in years. He still worked on the car in the evenings, but not to the point of exhaustion, and somehow, this seemed to make progress go faster.

Tonight he was staying up a little later; he was only working a half-day tomorrow and he wanted to get a little more work done. The body of the car was almost complete. All holes had been patched and rough patches smoothed away; now all that was left was the paint. Matt was torn between the original Venetian Red that he remembered from childhood, or the darker Midnight Blue that just seemed to suit things better.

Considering for a moment, Matt decided he’d ask Techie’s opinion. The closer the car got to completion, the more he wanted to take Techie out somewhere nice. 

It had taken so much for Matt to even learn how to drive after everything that had happened that he just wanted to share it with someone. For the first time in a long while, Matt was starting to feel proud of himself.

His good mood persisted, and as he wandered down the lane towards the shop a few days later, Matt couldn’t bring himself to care about the rain that had once more started in earnest. Shaking off his hair, he waved to Millicent at her post on the cash desk and heard a meow of greeting as he headed into the narrow alleyways of shelves.

Despite the amount of time he had spent there, Matt still got confused by the layout of the shop. Rooms shrank and expanded, seemingly at random; either that or Armitage had an obsession with rearranging furniture. The path Matt followed would take him to what he thought of as Techie’s reading room, or so he hoped.

The floorboards creaked behind Matt, startling him slightly, and he whipped his head around, only to see Millicent a few paces behind him, eyes glowing in the low light between the stacks.

“You’re going to give me a heart attack sometime, you know that?” Matt said, crouching down to scratch at her striped ears. Millicent arched her back, purrs echoing within the timbers of the shelves, and Matt gently lifted her, cradling her warmth against his chest as she kneaded his shoulders, pricking him slightly with her claws.

Maybe it was the gentle rumble against his chest, or maybe the feeling of finally getting somewhere in life, but the towering shelves either side of Matt no longer felt like they were pressing in on him. The bookshop seemed cosy, despite the impossible floorplan, and Matt smiled as he recognised the flowering plants along the windowsill.

Techie sat, much as he had the first time Matt had seen him: twisting a strand of hair around one finger, gaze flickering over the page in front of him.

“Research?” Matt said, and Techie blinked up, hastily shoving the book aside.

“Something like that.” He was twisting his fingers in the hem of his oversized cardigan and Matt couldn’t help but glance over, taking in the title of the book.

_Gay Spirit: A guide to becoming a sensuous homosexual._

“Oh!” Matt didn’t dare meet Techie’s eyes. _That_ kind of research. “D- did it tell you anything interesting?" He swallowed, trying to avoid staring at the words ' _sensuous homosexual_ '. Techie shook his head, face glowing red.

"No. Not really. I mean, I already _know_ how it all, y’know, works. I just saw the book and, um, just wanted to check; be prepared. In case you wanted to—at some point, maybe."

"Oh." Matt could feel blood rushing to his own face and he didn't dare meet Techie's eyes. "Yeah, that would be...cool...at some point, yeah." He tilted his head, frowning at the book’s cover. “It seems a little out of date.”

Techie gave a small smile, sweeping the book further aside. "It really is! This book wants me to hug a sofa cushion and bob my head like a pigeon to ‘improve my technique’."

Matt frowned, confusion overcoming awkwardness as he pulled up a seat next to Techie. “And how exactly does that work?”

“No idea.” Techie smiled at Matt, barely suppressing a laugh. “But did you know there is an actual list of pros and cons of blue jeans?” He snorted and Matt leaned over, pulling the book towards them.

“Okay, let me see this.”

“Oh, don’t. It’s really terrible.” Techie’s giggles were infectious and Matt couldn’t help but grin.

“Aww, you mean you don’t want to see my pigeon technique?” He bobbed his head, pecking Techie’s cheek with a kiss. “I really don’t think we’d need a book like this.”

“Very true,” Techie said, slipping his hand into Matt’s. “I mean, the internet exists, and I can always ask Armie, y’know, if I wanna really traumatise myself.”

“You don’t have to do that on my account,” Matt said. “Besides, we have plenty of time to figure things out.”

Techie’s smile dulled, his fingers squeezing tight on Matt’s own. “Sure…” he said. “Time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, the book Techie has is real, as is everything he mentions from it.


	6. Shadows

As the weather headed towards freezing and the end of the year crawled closer, Matt noticed something of a downturn in the atmosphere of the shop. Techie’s smiles were becoming less frequent and more tired, and Armitage’s already brittle temper seemed close to breaking point. Matt had seen him snap at a customer who had asked him a price, purely because she’d interrupted his reading. His eyes were growing as dark as Techie’s were red, and a deep concern was welling up within Matt.

Techie had assured him that it was nothing, just the stresses of the festive season; although Matt had seen no sign that the twins celebrated any sort of holidays. It prickled at his mind, doubts blooming like bruises to darken his own mood.

Hands in his pockets to brace himself against the cold, Matt trudged towards the shop. His head was pounding and his limbs heavy, but he pushed that all aside. Techie had sounded a little down the last few times they’d spoken and Matt was determined to do something to help. Techie had helped him when he’d been feeling bad, so what sort of boyfriend would he be if he didn’t at least try to do the same? 

Even the shop windows seemed to lack their usual warmth, the lights inside seeming distant behind the panes of glass, their edges just starting to tinge with frost. It didn’t help that the sign on the door read ‘Closed’, making Matt frown and glance at his watch. The flowering baskets were wilting, he noticed, their stems brown and brittle. He paused, concern bubbling in his stomach. The shop should be open at this time, and it wasn’t like Techie to forget about his plants. Something was wrong and Matt could feel it, a primal knowledge in his bones that had him wrenching the street door to the flat open and dashing upstairs.

Armitage was waiting before Matt had even finished climbing the stairs. He was gaunt and pale, the sharp edges of his cheekbones stretching the almost translucent skin. Matt didn’t question how he’d known to open the door, simply pausing to catch his breath and meeting Armitage’s worried eyes.

“I’m glad you’re here, Matt.” Armitage’s voice trembled and he clutched at the hem of his shirt, a gesture that Matt was familiar with; it was the same thing Techie did when he was nervous. “It started a couple of days ago, and this is the worst it has ever been. I don’t...I don’t know what to do.” Running his fingers through his already dishevelled hair, Armitage closed the door behind Matt, showing him towards Techie’s room. “There has to be _something_.” He took Matt’s arm, concern written all over his face. “Will you stay with him? Please? I have to check some things downstairs.”

“Of course,” Matt said. “As long as you need me.”

Armitage nodded, turning back towards the door. “Just give me a shout if anything happens.”

Matt nodded, shoving his coat off. “I will.”

“Thank you.”

Leaving Matt standing in the hallway, Armitage left, and Matt could hear the sounds of his scuttling feet on the stairs. He gently pushed the door to Techie’s room open, peering in and seeing only the scatter of his hair across the pillow.

It was the first time he’d been in Techie’s bedroom, and Matt was not surprised to see plants lining the windowsill, their leaves dull and brown, as well as a small desk completely covered in computer parts and copper wire. A few small sculptures sat on the desk and Matt brushed a finger over them: a rose, a cat, a tree, a heart. He picked up the heart, holding it in his palm and feeling the wire slowly start to warm.

Treading softly across the carpet, Matt noticed a chair sat next to Techie’s bed, still warm, obviously Armitage’s spot. He sat down, raising a hand to Techie’s face and brushing a damp strand of hair to one side. His skin was like ice, cold beads of sweat pooling against Matt’s palm. The covers gently rose and fell with Techie’s breath, and Matt wanted nothing more than to press a kiss to his blue-tinged lips, try to breathe some life into him, wake him up like in one of the innumerable fairytales downstairs.

“What can I do?” Matt murmured to himself, running his fingers through his hair in agitation.

Techie shifted, mumbling, his eyelids fluttering open. He blinked slowly at Matt, eyes widening.

“Matt? Hey, what are you doing here?”

“I came to see you, of course,” Matt said, brushing his finger down one pale cheek. “Armitage says you’re not doing too great.” He smiled, trying to inject some warmth. “Are you sure you didn’t just want a day off work?”

Techie smiled, wincing as he tried to move, shivers rippling through him. “He was right. I don’t think I’ve ever felt like this.” He groaned, managing to slip the tips of his fingers out from under his blanket, and Matt immediately took his hand between both his own, gently rubbing, trying to bring a little bit of colour back to the clammy skin.

“You’ll be fine, though, won’t you?” Matt could feel the fear rising in his throat, the cold certainty that things were most definitely not going to be okay.

Techie’s forehead creased, the faint lines spiderweb thin. “I don’t know. I feel like my insides are turning to ice.” He blinked up at Matt, the hint of tears glistening in the corners of his eyes. “It hurts, Matt. I feel like I’ll never be warm again.”

“I can help with that at least,” Matt said, voice soft, trying to hide the lump in his throat that threatened to choke the words from him. “Would you like me to hold you?”

Techie’s head dipped in what Matt guessed was a nod and he slid onto the bed, tucking the covers around Techie and wrapping his arms around the cocoon of blankets. He pressed as close as he dared, hoping that whatever flame stoked the anger that so often burned within him would spark something within Techie and bring the sunlight back to his smile.

Techie sighed, relaxing into Matt’s arms, and Matt dared to press a kiss to his forehead, hoping to somehow leach the chill from his skin.

Slowly, Techie’s breathing started to deepen and the tremors that wracked his body began to subside. He snored softly, starting to warm as Matt held him closer, nose buried in his hair. His mind raced, chasing possibility after possibility, trying to think of some way he could help.

They still lay together when Armitage returned, clearing his throat as he entered the room, making Matt raise his head. “How is he?” he asked, still nervously running his fingers through his hair.

“M’fine, Armie,” Techie mumbled, making Matt blink in surprise. “Warm.”

Armitage seemed to sag in relief, a tired smile spreading across his face. “Good; that’s good.” He moved to his chair beside the bed and Matt shuffled awkwardly to sit up. “That’s a good sign,” Armitage said. “After the chill breaks things usually start to get better.”

“Did you check the thing you wanted to downstairs?” Matt asked, and Armitage nodded, pursing his lips. 

“I did. I got the information I needed. I just need to figure out what to do with it.” Armitage’s eyes were red, his skin blotchy, and he ran his hands through his hair, ruffling it into disarray.

“You can do it, Armie,” Techie said, rolling over and resting his head on Matt’s lap. “You’re so warm, Matt. Will you stay with me?”

Glancing to Armitage in search of approval, Matt received only a shrug in response. “Up to you. You’re both grown men. I’m not stopping anything.”

“Okay, then,” Matt said. “I don’t have anything to sleep in, though.”

Techie petted at Matt’s thigh and mumbled, “Underwear. Good enough for me.”

Armitage gave a cough. “Well, you’re definitely on the mend. I’ll be in the kitchen if you need anything.” He practically marched from the room, taking great care to close the door behind him. 

Techie looked up at Matt, a shadow of his usual smile flickering across his lips. “He’s too fun to tease.” He hissed in a breath as he shifted, and Matt immediately smoothed a hand over his forehead, noting that it was definitely slightly warmer now.

“Do you need any painkillers?” he asked. 

Techie shook his head. “I’m fine. Just need to sleep.”

“You do that. I’ll be right here with you.” Matt settled back in the chair Armitage had vacated, selecting a book at random from Techie’s shelves: _How to Survive a Robot Uprising_. A burst of affection bloomed in his chest and he leaned over to plant a brief kiss on Techie’s cheek, watching the sleepy smile that produced.

What little daylight there had been soon started to fade and Matt slipped from Techie’s room, not wanting to disturb him by turning on the light. He found Armitage in the kitchen, a chewed up pencil between his fingers and a notebook full of incomprehensible symbols in front of him. He raised an eyebrow as Matt pulled out a chair. “Everything okay?”

“Fine,” Matt said, holding up his book. “I didn’t wanna turn on the light. Is it okay if I sit here?”

“Go right ahead.” Armitage closed his notebook and sighed. “I was just thinking about making some sort of dinner, but I’m not sure I have the energy.” His smile was brittle when he looked at Matt. “I don’t think I’ve slept more than a few hours the last few days.”

“You’re a good brother, Armitage,” Matt said. “Techie’s very lucky to have you.”

To his surprise, Armitage blushed, folding his hands on his lap. “I could say the same thing about you.” His eyes were filled with the familiar deep sadness as he looked past Matt to stare at the table. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen him this happy. I’m glad.”

The compliment hung in the air, stretching into silence as they both sat, unmoving, until Matt cleared his throat. “Well, since I’m here, I might as well give you a hand with dinner. You don’t wanna be falling asleep while you’re cooking.”

“Well, if you insist.”

With a minimum of awkwardness, and with Matt doing most of the work, dinner was prepared. It was nothing fancy—chicken with rice and broccoli—and once Matt had finished his portion, he took a plate through for Techie, who was still asleep.

“Just pop it in the microwave,” Armitage said as Matt returned to the kitchen. “He’ll be ravenous in the morning.” He stretched out, yawning. “I may have to call it an early night; things seem to be catching up with me a little.”

“Sure. I’ll just read in here for a little while,” Matt said.

Armitage flapped his hand dismissively. “Nonsense. Just make yourself at home. You know where the television is, and if you need something else to read, well”—Armitage smirked, jerking his thumb towards the door that led downstairs—“you know where to find it.”

Matt smiled as Armitage yawned once more. “Sleep well,” he said.

“You, too. Goodnight, Matt.”

“Night.”

After clearing away the plates, Matt moved himself to the living room, deciding that the couch would be a better place to read than the kitchen table. He was joined by Millicent, who curled in a ball at his side, softly purring. It was odd, Matt thought; the twin’s flat was starting to feel almost as much like home as his own apartment. And yet he’d barely spent any time here. Maybe it was because the place was inextricably linked to Techie. Matt wasn’t sure, but when he leaned back on the sofa cushions he felt more at peace with himself than he had in a long time.

A few hours later and the warm weight of Millicent, combined with the rhythmic purrs, was making Matt’s eyes droop. He stretched, gently dislodging the cat and placing her on a cushion. He shut off the lamp and wandered back to Techie’s room, eyes adjusting to the gloom.

When he reached the bed, Matt paused before hauling off his outer shirt and his jeans, leaving him in just his t-shirt and boxers. He set his glasses on the bedside table and silently slipped under the duvet, hoping he wasn’t letting the cold in; that was the last thing Techie needed. 

A clammy hand immediately found his and Techie pulled close, one arm draped over Matt’s stomach, his head coming to rest in the crook of his shoulder. “Hey,” Matt said. “How are you feeling?”

Techie nuzzled against his chest. “Better now.” He shifted, draping one leg over Matt’s and cuddling even closer. “You’re the best part of this world, Matt.”

“You, too, Techie. You, too.”

Closing his eyes, Matt settled back, listening to the soft sound of Techie’s breathing. He stroked the length of his hair, full of relief. Techie was warm, and he was resting. He was safe in Matt’s arms. 

Finally, Matt felt he could rest.

The thought, however, was easier than the action. Despite the exhaustion that ran through every muscle, Matt still could not sleep. The bedside clock sliced the night away as the silence between each tick only seemed to stretch longer and longer.

He stared at the ceiling for what felt like hours, eyes starting to itch with tiredness. Usually the insomnia left Matt feeling numb, but his thoughts tonight were crystal clear. There was something the twins weren’t telling him, some reason that Armitage was searching for an answer rather than going to a doctor. Matt pursed his lips, gently rolling Techie onto his side, where he snuggled into his pillow with a murmur of Matt’s name. Matt slipped from the bed as silently as he could manage, goosepimples prickling on his bare legs.

Creeping downstairs, Matt was faced with the familiar uncertain jumble of shadowed stacks, eerie silhouettes against a backdrop of darkness. He pressed his hand to the wall, following the line of shelves, wood smooth beneath his fingertips. 

A puff of chill air whispered up Matt’s spine and he paused, steeling himself, straining his ears for any sound that might mean he wasn’t alone. Nothing.

Carefully treading along the creaking floorboards, Matt wished he’d had the presence of mind to put his socks back on. He shivered, hand reaching the end of the shelves, the edge of a table pressing against his thigh.

With a minimum of fumbling, he found the switch of a reading lamp, and, flipping it, blinked as the shadows pulled back. This was Armitage’s desk all right; the books were stacked neatly, and a small pile of notepads sat there, labelled alphabetically in his elegant script. The subjects, however, seemed somewhat random, and for the life of him Matt could not figure out what phases of the moon or quantum mechanics had to do with Techie’s deteriorating health.

Matt frowned, flipping from book to book and finding them filled with calculations and lists. Once or twice there was a symbol that he didn’t recognise, but nothing that gave him any hint of what was going on. Running his fingers through his hair in frustration, Matt turned another page, and stopped.

It was a drawing: a man with fierce eyes and long dark hair, who stared out from the page, lips curved in a half-smile towards the artist. His nose was long and elegant, just a shade smaller than Matt’s own, and Matt could feel an odd sense of familiarity as he gazed at his face. The page was marred with a single mark: the splash of some liquid, and Matt swallowed, feeling for the first time as if he were somehow intruding on something he was never meant to see.

Guilt welled up, making Matt pause. The twins had been so welcoming and here he was, snooping through Armitage’s private work. He sighed, leaning his face in his hands. For some reason he felt warmer now, the glow of the lamp cocooning him in his own little bubble of light. Matt picked up another notebook, flipping through to find more incomprehensible symbols. He leaned back in his chair. It seemed like the bookshop held an atmosphere of its own, pressing in on Matt, capable of wrapping him in either creeping terror or comforting warmth. He could feel his eyes drooping again and blinked slowly, the knowledge that he should really head back upstairs swimming briefly through his mind before sleep overtook him.

_It was cold. So cold. No light, no sound. It hurt to move, but move he must; home was out there, somewhere in the dark._

The floorboards creaked and Matt shifted in his sleep, breath clouding in the air.

_A familiar path, leading back. A glow._

Matt shivered as fingers slid across his face, icicles on his skin. He flicked his hand out to brush them away, eyes opening as he did.

Fire.

Pools of fire burned before him, wrapped in a cloak of darkness, tendrils threading into the shadows of the shop. It rose up above Matt, looming over him, bringing with it the scent of blood and a rattling groan that echoed in the gloom, surrounding him.

Fear washed over Matt, cold and certain, pinning him to the chair. He opened his mouth to scream, only to find his breath had already left him. His heart was pounding; he could hear it in his ears. This was it, the last thing he’d ever hear: the pulse of his own blood.

The shadow reached towards him, arm stretching out as if across a vast distance, unfolding and rippling, bleeding into the darkness. Matt’s fingers gripped tight on the chair, the wood soft beneath his nails. He couldn’t look away. The creature was bending towards him and all Matt could do was watch, the crimson flames seeming to burn into his very core.

Tears welled in Matt’s eyes, trickling down his cheeks as he tried to suck in what he was sure would be his final breath.

_Mraow?_

The flame flickered, the shadow turning to face Millicent, who meowed once more.

Matt seized his chance, wrenching himself from the chair and scrambling through the stacks of books, knocking them aside. The door to the stairs was still open and he somehow knew that if he could make it upstairs, everything would be fine. His feet slapped against the wooden floorboards, light growing dimmer the farther he got from the table.

Triumph burst in Matt’s chest as he skidded through the doorway. The chill of stone bit at his feet and he twisted to look back, not noticing Millicent darting between his legs.

His stomach lurched as the world turned sideways and Matt hit the steps with a _crack_.

His chin was jarred against the stair, and Matt could taste blood. It was nothing, though, compared to his arm. Pain burst like the sun, blooming and brilliant, radiating from wrist to shoulder. Bile filled Matt’s throat, a strangled scream finally bursting from his lips. Black spots bloomed before his eyes, nausea overwhelming him.

The scent of dust filled Matt’s nostrils and he knew he had to move. He tried to push himself up, gritting his teeth as another wave of sickness overtook him. He panted, cold sweat rising on his forehead. 

The door to the flat slammed open and Armitage appeared, silhouetted at the top of the stairs. His slippered feet slapped against the stairs as he dashed down. “Matt? What happened?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know,” Matt stuttered, thoughts dulled in a fog of agony. “Shadow. Fire. In front of me. Watching. I ran, tripped.” Matt panted, spikes of pain lancing through him. “My arm, I think it’s broken.”

“Shit,” Armitage muttered. “Let me help you up. We’ll need to wake Techie.”

Matt groaned as Armitage slipped an arm around him, hoisting him to his feet. His vision swam, pain overtaking and blotting out his thoughts.

Before he knew it he was seated at the kitchen table, Armitage gently laying his arm out and wincing at the blue bruises already blooming beneath the skin. “Just wait here a moment.”

“Are you going to call an ambulance?” Matt’s words were slurred through his puffy, swollen lip. He couldn’t see too well, glasses fallen somewhere on the stairs. Tears filled the corners of his eyes, a combination of pain, fear and shame. He was pathetic.

“I’m going to wake Techie,” Armitage said. 

Matt shook his head, panic flaring on top of everything else. “Don’t. He doesn’t need to see me like this.”

“Believe me, you need him.”

“No, no, don’t! Please, Armie.” Matt’s breath was speeding, shivers wracking his body with each wave of nausea. “I just— I can’t—” He coughed, tears spilling down his cheeks. “I’m a mess. And he’s so—”

“Shh, just breathe.” Armitage rubbed a hand in a tentative circle on Matt’s shoulder. “You’re tired and scared and in shock.”

“Don’t tell me shit I already know!” Matt scrubbed across his face with the one hand he could feel, running his fingers through his hair in agitation. “He’s seen the mess I am too many times.” Spots danced in from of Matt’s vision and his shoulders shook. “I don’t deserve him.”

Armitage tutted. “Stop being an idiot. Techie is happy. He likes you.” He sighed. “He maybe even loves you. Now sit here and stop feeling sorry for yourself while I go fetch him.” 

Matt buried his face in his hand, breath huffing out in small pants. Tremors wracked his body, pain a constant burn in his arm, ice surrounding fire. He squeezed his eyes shut, swallowing against the bile that rose in his throat. He felt as if he were floating, trapped in a bubble within his own mind, forced to feel every single breath, every heartbeat, with a burn of agony.

There was a shuffle of footsteps and Matt cracked one eye open.

“You’re right, it looks pretty bad.” Techie slid into the chair next to Matt. “Hey, how are you doing?”

Matt sniffed, trying to wipe his eyes, preserve some sort of dignity. Techie was smiling softly, reaching to brush his hair from his face.

“I’m just going to take a look at this arm, okay?”

“No, don’t, please. It hurts, I—”

“Matt. Look at me.”

Blue eyes pierced through the fog of pain, clear and bright. Matt breathed, the tightness in his chest loosening, and Techie smiled. “Good,” he said. He breathed deep, eyelids slipping shut. “Now just try to relax.”

The air seemed to change, charged and sparking, making the hairs on the back of Matt’s neck prickle.

Shaking his hair from his face, Techie straightened in his chair. Matt could feel his skin starting to tingle, like a fine film of static draped across his arm. Techie’s hands were held above it, swaying back and forth in a slow sweep. His lips began to move, though Matt couldn’t make out the words: a low musical chant that seemed to rise and fall with Matt’s heartbeat.

His mouth fell open as the light of the room seemed to draw in, centreing on Techie. It flickered across his skin, painting him in a warm glow that shimmered from gold to pale green, flowing down his fingertips, which were lowered to Matt’s skin. The air seemed to crackle and waver, slow and syrupy as warmth washed up Matt’s arm, pain leaching away with every smooth sweep of Techie’s hands.

“Wha—” Matt whispered, staring as the blue-black stain of bruising drew in on itself, folding in like flower buds before the coming rain. He flexed his fingers, the numbness retreating, burned away by the pale liquid light that spilled from Techie’s palms.

Techie blinked his eyes open and Matt’s breath caught; he was outlined, illuminated, warmth shining from every facet. Tiny motes of light caught in the copper of his hair as he leaned towards Matt, the tiniest hint of a smile on his lips.

One hand cupped Matt’s cheek and his vision was filled with sparkles of palest green, like newly made leaves. The warmth spread through him, burning away the shadow of fear as Techie brought their lips together. 

Matt sighed into the kiss, raising his own hand to hold Techie’s in place. His swollen lip diminished in an instant, torn edges knitting together, all pain gone. All that was left was the softness of Techie’s lips, and the dancing green lights that flickered, even through Matt’s closed eyelids.

The light faded as Techie pulled away, leaving them sat, eyes locked, hands joined together on the kitchen table.

“So,” Techie said, teeth scraping across his lower lip. “I guess there’s some explaining to do.”


	7. The Past

Matt stared at the mug that had been placed before him, the steam rising in delicate curls. Armitage had retreated to the corner of the kitchen, notebook in hand, scribbling notes with a look of intense concentration on his face. Techie sat before him, eyes wide and patient, waiting in silence.

Matt opened his mouth and paused. Nothing he could say could adequately express the mix of confusion, fascination and awe that filled his mind. He settled for staring at his arm, running his fingers across the unmarred skin and prodding at the point where he was certain it had broken. He shook his head, not quite believing what he had quite clearly seen with his own eyes.

“So, that…” Matt pursed his lips, shaking his head again and running his fingers through his hair. “What was that?”

“That was healing,” Techie said, placing his hand on Matt’s knee. “Magic.”

“I—” Matt rubbed his fingers across his temple. “How?”

Techie’s lips curved in a tentative smile. “We’re not exactly from here.” He shivered, pulling his dressing gown further around himself, and Matt immediately scooted his chair over, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

“If you can do something like that, then how come you’re so sick?”

Techie sighed, “Now _that_ is a whole other matter. It’s not a physical sickness.” His gaze flickered over to Armitage, voice lowering. “I think you may have run into our shadow friend?”

“Is that what’s causing this? Some evil spirit thing? Is there some way to stop it? Like an exorcism or something?” Matt clutched at Techie’s shoulder. “We can fight it.”

Techie let out a small, sad laugh. “It’s not like that at all.” He leaned into Matt, taking another glance at Armitage. “His name is Kylo, and he’s trapped. He's caught in the shadows between worlds, but he's fading fast, turning into something else. I’ve been trying to heal him, but it only makes me sicker.”

Matt held tight as Techie shivered, stroking circles on his shoulder. “I’ve seen how sick you get. Why do that to yourself?”

Techie pulled closer, head resting on Matt’s shoulders. “Kylo is connected to us. Well, to _the firstborn son_. So, if he can’t be brought over to this world soon…” Techie’s voice trailed off, his gaze flickering over to Armitage, wrapped in shadow in the corner, still lost in his writing.

“If he can’t,” Matt started, “then Armitage will…die?”

Techie smiled, sweet and sad and oh-so-tired, blue eyes freezing Matt in place. “No, Matt. _I_ will.” He took Matt’s hand, entangling to their fingers. “It’s funny how often that mistake gets made. People always think Armitage is the older one.” He brushed a hand through his hair, the smallest of creases appearing between his eyebrows. “That mistake is part of the reason we’re in this situation.”

Matt swallowed, hearing Techie’s voice harden and tentatively reaching over to brush his cheek. “Tell me. Maybe there’s something I can do to help.”

“Oh, Matt…” Techie’s hand trailed up his chest. “I don’t even know where to start.”

“Well, the beginning is usually a good bet.” Matt smiled, trying to cajole a little bit of light back into Techie’s eyes.

“The beginning?” Techie took a deep breath, sitting straighter, though still leaning into Matt for strength. “Okay. We’ll start there.” His voice was low and steady, an ominous timbre rising as he spoke.

“So, beyond the veil between worlds, there is a realm not quite like this one, but similar enough. The little magics that go unnoticed here are celebrated there.” Techie brushed a finger across the petals of the flower in the centre of the table, making them flutter open. “As you can probably guess by now, that is where we came from.”

Matt nodded, eyes fixed on Techie’s face. So many questions filled his head: how and where and why? But they could wait. For now, he listened.

“I was content with my power.” Techie squeezed tight on Matt’s fingers. “I’m only really good at healing magic, which was fine. All I ever wanted was to fix stuff, help things grow.” 

Matt nodded. Fixing things was probably the only thing he was good at. The gaping maw of uncertainty in his stomach yawned; he’d find a way to fix whatever this was, too.

Techie tilted his head. “Armitage, on the other hand, wanted to train, so our father sent him to Snoke.” Techie shuddered. “A shadow mage, very powerful. The rumours said he dabbled in blood magic, but Father didn’t believe it.” Techie’s expression darkened, casting a shadow over his sunny features. “Anyway, Snoke had an apprentice, almost as powerful as he was, fiery-tempered and stubborn. Armie hated him.”

“So,” Matt said, voice unconsciously dropping to a whisper, “what happened? Did they fight? Did he kill the apprentice?”

“Worse.” Armitage’s voice sent a shiver up Matt’s spine; he hadn’t realised that he’d moved. He pulled out a chair and sat, gaze flickering over Matt and Techie’s joined hands.

“Worse than killing him?” Matt whispered, and Armitage’s face curved into a sour smile.

“We fell in love.”

“Oh.” Matt blinked as Armitage’s smile fell, replaced by the familiar, distant sadness.

“We were stupid. All we cared about was power and each other.” Armitage waved a dismissive hand. “So many grandiose dreams of running off together. Nothing mattered as long as we were together.” His hand balled into a fist on the scarred wood of the table, and he bit his lip. “Snoke overheard us, of course, and accused us of conspiring against him. We fought.”

“You won,” Techie said, pulling away from Matt to place a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “No one back home will be forced to deal with Snoke again. Be glad of that.”

“How can I be, after everything that has happened?” The shadows under Armitage’s eyes were dark and hollow, his clipped tones starting to fray at the edges. Matt looked at them both, from Techie’s patient smile to Armitage’s pained expression.

“What happened?”

Armitage and Techie shared a glance before Armitage pushed his hair from his face and continued, his fingers twisting around themselves on the table. “Like Techie said, we won. Snoke was dying, and Kylo and I couldn’t believe it. We were free to be together and do whatever we pleased. We were so blinded by happiness that we didn’t even stop to think about Snoke’s last stand.” Armitage winced, rolling up his sleeve to reveal three deep parallel scars across his arm, cleanly sliced into the flesh.

“Blood magic,” Techie murmured, and Armitage nodded, teeth scraping across his lower lip.

“He took both our blood with a spell, cursing us with his last breaths.” Armitage’s face creased in pain and he ran a finger along the line of one scar. “He mocked us. ‘You say you can’t live without each other? Well, so be it.’” Armitage’s voice was cold as he repeated Snoke’s words: “‘I curse thee, treacherous apprentice and eldest son of Hux. Together you shall be, and forever apart. In shadow and light, never to touch, until the distance between you wastes you away and you are left with nothing but death.’” He swallowed, shaking his head. “Kylo was gone before I could even reach him.”

Shoulders trembling, Armitage stared at his hands. Techie patted him on the shoulder, giving a squeeze. He turned to Matt with another one of those sad patient smiles. “You see where Snoke went wrong, though?”

Matt nodded, murmuring the words back, “‘Eldest son of Hux.’” He turned his eyes on Techie. “You.”

Techie nodded. “Me.”

“It’s not fair!” Armitage buried his face in his arms. “You should never have had to deal with this. Techie, I’m so sorry.”

Techie pulled away from Matt, wrapping his arms around Armitage.

“How many times have I told you, there’s nothing to apologise for. It’s my fault we got stuck here.”

Matt’s fingers twitched against the table and he tilted his head. “How _did_ you get here?”

Armitage and Techie exchanged a glance and Armitage stood. “Perhaps it’s time for a little demonstration of my own.” He drew his finger down through empty air, a trail of silvery grey following behind it. As Matt watched, he reached into the pale fire, arm completely disappearing. When he drew it back out there was something held between his fingers. “Your glasses, I believe.”

Matt raised his eyebrows, accepting his glasses and slipping them on. He shook his head. “I don’t get it.”

“Changing space is something of a specialty of mine.” Armitage crossed his arms. “Did you never wonder why the shop seems so much bigger on the inside?”

Realisation dawned on Matt and he could feel a flush creeping up his cheeks. “I thought I was just getting lost in the shelves,” he mumbled.

Techie patted his arm, continuing their story. “So, after the fight, Armie came to me in a panic, bleeding, crying, rambling. He wasn’t making any sense. There was so much blood, I didn’t know what to do.”

“You healed me at least,” Armitage said before turning to Matt. “I’d managed to steal as many of Snoke’s books as I could, but I had to get Techie. I’d seen Kylo fade away before my very eyes. I didn’t know what the curse would do to my brother.” His jaw clenched tight and Matt could see the pain in his hollowed eyes.

“All I remember is feeling dizzy and my vision clouding over. It wasn’t until Armie appeared that I found out what happened.” Colour rose on Techie’s cheeks. “I got scared. I didn’t listen to what he was saying. I panicked.”

“I opened a doorway like the one you just saw,” Armitage said. “I wanted to find Kylo.”

“And I wanted to escape.”

“So, with us both pulling in such different directions…”

“You ended up here,” Matt said.

The twins nodded in unison.

“We were on the streets for a while, completely lost,” Armitage said. “It was easy enough to survive, but we had nowhere to live.”

“Until the lady who ran this bookshop took us in.” Techie smiled. “Ms Kanata. She passed away not long afterwards.”

“I think she always knew what we were,” Armitage said with a tilt of his shoulders. “She worked as a medium on the side.”

“Or if she didn’t know, Millicent definitely did.” Techie reached down, scratching Millie between the ears.

Matt raised an eyebrow, peering down at Millicent. “Cats know those things?”

“Millicent is special, _we're_ not even sure what she is,” Armitage said, rising to his feet and stepping into the hall for a moment. He returned with a framed photo. “This is from around a hundred and fifty years ago.” He handed it to Matt, who recognised the front of the shop. “There, in the window.” Armitage pointed. Sat atop a pile of books and staring into the camera was a cat.

“No. Seriously?” Matt glanced from picture to cat and back again. “Wow.”

“She seems happy enough to stay with us,” Techie said, “and we’ve never come to any trouble since.”

“Apart from the trouble we’re already in,” Armitage said. Sighing heavily, he placed a hand on Techie’s shoulder. “Time is running out, it has been five years.” His voice was raising higher and higher as he spoke. “Kylo is losing himself, you’re getting sicker, and still there is _nothing_ I can do. I can’t lose you, William. You’re all I have. Even if it’s too late for Kylo, I have to save you.” He buried his face in his hands, shoulders shaking in a silent sob. “I’ve only ever loved two people. I cannot lose you both.”

“There’s no way to fix it?” Matt said, sorrow washing through him. “Some way to reverse the curse, or whatever it is?”

“I’ve tried so many things. I’ve searched and experimented and researched as much as I could find. Only blood sacrifice can reverse blood magic,” Armitage said with a shake of his head. “It was one of the first things I tried when we finally had a roof over our heads.”

“Using your own blood, too,” Techie said with a frown. He glanced at Matt, spreading his hands wide as he explained, “We’re twins; we have the same blood. All Armie managed to do was bind Kylo to the shop as well as myself. It’s why I almost never go out; it’s just too draining.” Techie rubbed at his reddening eyes. “And it just keeps getting worse. I’m not sure how long we have left.”

“I do,” Armitage mumbled, arms folded around himself, fingers dug deep into his skin. “From what I can tell”—he swallowed—“we have until the solstice.” What little colour he had in his face was gone. “We have less than two weeks.” He crumbled, the last of his composure slipping away, sobs wracking through him.

Techie pulled Armitage close, stroking his hair, face blank. He seemed stunned, eyes wide, staring into nothing.

There was a rushing sound in Matt’s ears and the world seemed to narrow. All that mattered was here in this room, caught in the light that hung above the table, an island in an ocean of shadow. The warmth Matt had felt returning to his life, the acceptance, the love, all so close to being wiped out in a single swipe of fate.

“No,” Matt whispered and stood, slamming his fist into the table. “No! I am not letting this happen.” Desperation pounded in his chest, words stumbling out without though. “Armitage, use me, use my blood.” Heat rose to Matt’s cheeks as his resolve solidified. “Let me help you.”

“Matt, no.” Techie glared at him. “There’s another way. There has to be.”

Matt shook his head. “Not if you’ve had five years to figure it out.” He turned to Armitage, meeting the watery grey-green gaze. “Can it be done?”

Armitage nodded, trembling in Techie’s arms. “You would do this? For Techie?”

“For both of you,” Matt said, grim determination solidifying itself in his chest. Techie opened his mouth, clearly to protest, and Matt cut him off before he could say a word. “No. Listen. I lost most of my family when I was young. My mom and both my sisters. I should never have survived and it fucked me up completely. When my dad died I had nothing. I _was_ nothing. I still am, a waste of a life that should never have happened.” Matt’s hands were shaking. “I’ve done nothing with the life I was given. I’m not special or important or worth anything to anyone, but I can do this. I can fix this.” 

Armitage and Techie were both staring as Matt’s voice rose, his fingers brushing through his hair in agitation. “You sit and you dwell and you hate yourself for living when the only people you’ve cared about are gone. You think you should do something to make sure your life isn’t a waste, and then you waste it anyway!” Tears were streaming from Matt’s eyes now, but still he continued, “My family is gone. I should be, too. I know what it’s like to lose absolutely everything you’ve cared about, and I refuse to let it happen again!” 

Matt met Techie’s eyes and his voice softened. “If I can stop it from happening to you, then I will do whatever it takes. I’ll have done something worthwhile for the first time in my miserable life.”

“Matt…” Techie’s eyes shone, and Matt smiled softly, reaching out to brush a tear from his cheek.

“Let me fix this.”

Techie bowed his head, tears silently slipping down his cheeks, and Armitage rose from his chair, softly placing a hand on Matt’s shoulder. “Thank you.” His fingers tightened for a moment. “And for what it’s worth, your family isn’t gone.” He gestured from Techie to himself. “We’re right here.”

Matt smiled, tiredness overwhelming him. “Thanks, Armie.” He yawned. “So, where do we go from here?”

“Bed,” Armitage said. “We go to bed, and in the morning, we’ll make our plan.” He walked away and in the corner of his eye Matt caught a glimpse of Techie’s shadow. It seemed to double for a second, edges flickering, an arm reaching out in a yearning grasp before disappearing completely.

Matt pursed his lips, a pang of sorrow welling up in his chest. He brushed a hand across his eyes before turning to Techie, who was still seated, gaze fixed on his hands. He barely moved as Matt sat back down, one hand tentatively resting on his knee. He swallowed, tears still streaming down his cheeks. “You really think I’m worth dying for?” he whispered, and Matt leaned in, resting their foreheads together.

“I think you’re worth living for.” Matt took Techie in his arms and Techie squirmed, all but crawling into his lap. He cupped Matt’s chin in his hands, smoothing across his stubble and pulling him in for a deep kiss.

“Is there anything I can say that will make you change your mind?” Techie whispered, meeting Matt’s gaze, lip trembling as Matt shook his head.

“I want to do this,” he said, pressing kisses across Techie’s eyelids before catching his lips once more.

“Come on,” Techie said as he pulled away. “It’s been a long night. We should sleep.”

Matt carried him through to the bedroom, not willing to let go for a second. The tiredness was overwhelming and his thoughts cotton soft as he curled around Techie, wrapping him in his arms. As sleep finally claimed him, Matt’s mind drifted. He wondered if somehow, in the other room, the shadow of Kylo held Armitage the same way.

*****

“The new moon. Two days away.”

Armitage paced, coffee in hand, scattering notebook pages with every footstep. His face was sunken, his hair dishevelled, and his dark-ringed eyes gleamed with a glint of mania. “And we’re in luck, it’s in apogee. We’ll have more darkness to work with.” A nerve in Armitage’s eye twitched. “However, it’s only three days before the solstice, so this is our _only_ chance.”

“And you’re sure it’ll work?” Matt said, steepled fingers pressed against his lips. “Everything will be okay?”

“I’ve done everything I can to make sure the ritual goes as planned,” Armitage said, nodding to himself and rifling through one of the multitudinous stacks of paper, muttering under his breath as he did. “I’ve got all the basics: sage, candles, chalk...yes, yes. Salt—need salt, and the knife...” He wandered off, still mumbling, fingers tapping against his mug in a staccato beat.

Matt turned to Techie, sliding an arm around his waist. “Hey, you okay?”

Techie pulled close. He’d barely left an inch of space between himself and Matt for the last few days, constantly touching and holding, kissing him any chance he got.  
Matt was glad; every gesture of affection only strengthened his resolve, filling him with a heat that burned against the creeping chill of fear.

He’d returned home only once, grabbing his clean clothes and taking a brief glance around the garage.

The car sat where he’d left it, not quite fixed. Matt ran a hand across the bonnet, raising an eyebrow at his reflection in the midnight blue paint.

“Sorry, Dad,” he murmured. “I didn’t quite get there. I think you’d still be proud of me, though.” He sighed, turning to lean against the Capri and folding his arms. “I’m sorry I never listened to you. You were right, I should have gotten therapy years ago…” Matt ran his fingers through his hair. “Too late now, I suppose.” Smiling softly Matt walked away. “See you on the other side.”

And before he knew it, it was time.

“We’ll start tomorrow, half past six in the morning—the point where the moon is at its darkest. I have a few last things to prepare. You should sleep until then.” Armitage glanced from Matt to Techie, a soft, sad smile on his face. “I’ll leave you both alone.” Behind him on the wall, his shadow sat as he did. Beyond that, though, was another figure: indistinct and fuzzy, gently stroking at Armitage’s hair. 

Matt swallowed, chest tightening. _This_ was what he was doing this for.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Armitage said, rising. The shadow followed in his wake, reaching out as if to take Armitage’s hand.

“See you in the morning,” Matt said. Techie just nodded, gripping tight on Matt’s arm.

As the door closed with a click, Techie stood, pulling Matt after him, a look of determination on his face. He led Matt to his room, which sat still and silent, the newly blooming flowers on the windowsill bobbing gently in the faint night breeze. Techie walked ahead, tugging Matt by the hand, leading him down to sit next to him on the bed.

“You don’t have to do this you know.” His eyes were wide, red-rimmed and as pale as the slivers of starlight that shone through the blinds.

“I know.” Matt raised his hand, stroking a finger down Techie’s cheek and pressing it firmly to his lips as he opened his mouth to speak again. 

There was no more left to say. 

Techie’s breath was warm on his skin and Matt could feel his chest tightening. He pushed aside a silken strand of hair as he shuffled closer, their clothed thighs just brushing together. Swallowing against the pounding in his chest, Matt leaned forwards, pressing his lips against Techie’s own and hoping the action could convey just how much he wanted this night to last.

Techie’s lips parted softly in a gasp, his arms hesitantly finding their way around Matt’s neck. His tongue flicked out, barely brushing the tip of Matt’s own and making his toes curl inside his socks. Matt inhaled deeply, eyes slipping shut as Techie repeated the motion, the ghost of a moan falling from his lips.

Matt could feel every point where Techie’s fingers dug into his shoulder. Techie scrambled to pull himself closer and bumped their noses together in the process.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Matt said, leaning back as Techie pushed forwards, sinking into the mattress. He wrapped his arms around Techie to stroke circles on his back. Techie nudged Matt’s lips open, slightly scraping the bottom one with his teeth and making Matt hiss in a breath. One tremulous hand slipped into Matt’s hair, tugging and sending sparks shooting down his spine. He could feel Techie’s nose pressed against his own, moving as Techie pressed kisses across his cheeks, up his nose, over his brow, before stopping, warm breath coming soft in his ear.

Matt’s toes curled as Techie lipped around the shell of his ear, drawing the lobe into his mouth with his tongue to gently nibble. He hissed in a breath, fingers pressing into Techie’s hips, pulling him closer. Techie trailed down his neck with little sucking kisses, one hand still buried in Matt’s hair as the other smoothed across his chest. He pulled back, brushing his own hair from his face, teeth catching his lower lip as he reached for the hem of his t-shirt.

Pushing himself up on his elbows, Matt drank in the sight: the slim, pale lines of Techie’s body practically glowing in the dark as they were revealed. He reached forward, thumb dipping into the hollow of Techie’s collarbone, so delicate beneath his hands. He trailed his fingers down the length of Techie’s neck, following the path of tattooed petals before spreading his palm over his slim chest to feel the heartbeat underneath. It flickered like a guttering candle and Matt let out a sigh that was half-choked sob, sitting upright and pressing his face to Techie’s chest.

Slim fingers stroked through Matt’s hair, slipping beneath his collar to raise goosepimples on his rapidly heating skin. Techie’s voice was low as he slid a hand down Matt’s side, gently tugging at his clothes. “Matt, can I?”

Matt nodded, swallowing, heat rising through him. “Yes, it’s fine.” He pressed a kiss directly above Techie’s heart. “I’m ready.”

Techie leaned back, still balanced across Matt’s lap, and Matt raised his arms to let Techie pull his shirt off, glasses catching as he did. The world blurred and came back into focus as Techie pushed his glasses back up his nose for him before spreading his hands across Matt’s shoulders and dipping down to kiss him. “You’re so strong.”

Matt shook his head, holding Techie tight, fingers pressed into the sweet softness of his skin. It was the only thing stopping him from shattering.

They sank together into the mattress, tongues twining and hands roving, mapping every inch of each other through touch and taste. Matt’s hands dropped lower, sliding to cup the soft curve of Techie’s ass and making him gasp.

“Is this okay?” Matt said, blood rushing to his cheeks as Techie pulled back, lips pink and shining.

“Yeah, yeah, it is,” Techie said, sliding from atop Matt to lie next to him. “I just need to…” He fumbled with his trousers, sliding everything downwards and kicking them off the end of the bed.

Matt’s mouth went dry, his heart speeding and eyes widening at the sight of Techie completely bare before him. Blood rose to his cheeks and he could feel them practically glowing.

“That’s better,” Techie sighed, pressing himself against Matt, hands circling the planes of his stomach, smoothing across the cluster of moles on his chest to palm at his pectoral muscles.

Matt just stared. A few white scars stood out on Techie’s skin, and he ran a finger across one, breathing in Techie’s gasp as he did. He was so much slimmer than Matt had thought, illness clearly having taken its toll. Matt closed his eyes, pulling Techie towards him, kissing him thoroughly, slipping his tongue into Techie’s mouth, heart clenching at his soft moan.

The ridges of Techie’s spine stood out like monoliths under Matt’s questing fingers and he smoothed across each one, his other hand tangling into Techie’s hair as he tilted their mouths together. A thumb brushed across Matt’s nipple and a little shudder sparked through him, only to be pushed aside. He could feel Techie hard against his thigh and all Matt could focus on was making him feel good.

Pulling from Techie’s mouth, Matt kissed downwards, tongue flicking into the hollow of his throat to taste the faint salt tang of his skin. Techie blinked, face flushed, panting a little as he took in the path of Matt’s lips.

Tongue flicking out, Matt drew one pink nipple into his mouth, circling it with his tongue. Techie’s fingers tangled in the curls of his hair, pushing just a little, gently urging him lower, to where his hips arched from the bed.

Kissing down the soft skin of Techie’s belly, Matt buried his nose in the faint red tangle of hair. He could feel the hard press of Techie’s cock against his cheek and breathed deep, settling his mind for a second before turning his attention to it.

Matt swallowed, wetting his lips before wrapping his hand around the hard length. It was flushed and pink, the glistening head just visible beneath smooth foreskin, and Matt slid his hand down in an experimental pump.

“M-Matt…” Techie gazed down at him, blue eyes almost black, his mouth pink and wide and panting.

Matt raised his eyebrows, meeting Techie’s gaze. “Just…tell me if I do something you don’t like.” He dipped his head, licking an experimental stripe up the length of Techie’s cock and hearing the soft gasp that fell from his lips. Matt smiled to himself, lowering his head and hitching Techie’s knees up over his shoulders, holding tight on those narrow hips. He wet his lips and drew Techie into his mouth, tongue tentatively circling the head of his cock.

Techie whined, his hips bucking up, forcing himself further into Matt’s mouth and making him splutter.

“Shit! Sorry! Are you—” Techie’s words were cut off with a moan as Matt dived back in, lapping across Techie’s cock with sloppy kisses, lips trailing up the shaft before drawing him back into the circle of his lips. 

He sucked lightly, getting used to the weight on his tongue, the heat and scent and taste, the press of Techie’s thighs against his ears, and most of all, the sweet moans that were starting to fill the air. One of Techie’s hands had found his own and he threaded their fingers together, humming to himself with happiness.

Growing bolder, Matt bobbed his head, feeling Techie slip almost completely from his mouth before drawing him back in, taking a little more each time until his nose was almost touching the fiery hair at the base. Beneath him Techie squirmed, and Matt felt a little spurt of wetness, salt tang spreading across his tongue. He decided to explore, slipping his tongue beneath the velvety skin of Techie’s foreskin and circling, teasing at the slit and smiling to himself as Techie’s spine arched and he moaned out Matt’s name.

Matt groaned in response, forehead creasing. He was still fully dressed below the waist and his cock throbbed, pressure building, barely alleviated by the grinding of his hips against the mattress. His jaw was already starting to ache, but the last thing he wanted to do was disappoint Techie. He squeezed Techie’s fingers, pulling back slightly to peer upwards.

Techie’s eyelids fluttered, his bottom lip caught between his teeth and his free hand tangled in his own hair. He caught Matt’s eye and gave a little tug at their joined hands. “Lose the clothes and get up here,” he said, and Matt pulled off with a pop, a self-satisfied grin on his face.

He shoved the last of his clothes away and felt Techie’s arms instantly slide around his neck, hauling him up for a deep kiss that had Matt groaning. Techie turned them over, pressing him back into the pillows. Matt couldn’t help but gasp. Techie hovered above him, eyes glittering in the dim light, eerily pale, and Matt swore he could see the faint green shimmer of the magic beneath his skin. He was so close to the edge of the unknown and all Matt could think to do was embrace it. He reached up, sliding a strand of Techie’s hair from his forehead and brushing his thumb across the soft skin of one eyelid as he cupped Techie’s cheek.

“Hey,” Matt said, and Techie smiled, the glitter of his eyes coalescing to fall on Matt’s chest in a single tear.

“Hey, yourself,” he said, surging down to press their bodies together, fingers gripping tight on Matt’s shoulders. He trembled, and Matt tilted his head to kiss Techie’s lips once more. He held Techie tight, rubbing his back and feeling heat flood through him as their cocks brushed together; he couldn’t help but arch up.

Techie pulled back and Matt caught a glimpse of a watery smile before warm lips found his throat, gently sucking down to his collarbone and trailing lower as Techie squeezed at one pectoral muscle, teeth gently scraping across Matt’s nipple.

Matt groaned as he circled his his hips, craving friction. His breath caught in his throat, waves of arousal washing through him as Techie gently nudged his legs apart with one thigh. Sweat was starting to bead on their skin, creating a delicious slide as Techie rubbed his cock alongside Matt’s, a little mewl-like moan falling from his lips. 

Matt slid his hands lower, grasping Techie’s hips, gently guiding him, encouraging his movements. “Just like that,” he murmured. He could feel pressure building inside him, making his chest clench even as he panted with every movement of Techie’s hips.

Techie’s hand wrapped around both their cocks and they moaned together, breath hot in the cool air.

The motion of Matt’s hips stuttered. He could feel the pleasure building and spread his legs wider, letting Techie settle between them, the pace of his thrusts steadily increasing along with his moans.

Matt watched, mesmerised, and pushed into the touch. Techie’s hair danced like fire around him, even as the tears glinted at the corners of his eyes. He could feel his heart clenching, wishing beyond hope that there was some way to make this moment last. Pleasure coiled inside him and his fingers dug deep into the soft skin of Techie’s thigh. He could see Techie tiring, but still he kept up his movements, wild desperation driving him forwards. 

Matt could feel tears pricking at the corners of his own eyes as he matched Techie’s thrusts. It wasn’t fair, Matt thought; if only they’d had more time. 

He breathed deep, throat catching, tears starting to spill as he pulled Techie to him, coming hard with a gasp of his name. He felt Techie shudder against him as he followed, spurting across Matt’s stomach. He collapsed atop Matt with a sob, and Matt wrapped his arms tight around him, tears spilling freely as he pressed kisses to Techie’s hair.

Gone were the tears of anger and frustration, so familiar to him. Now it was pure sorrow, for the family he’d lost and the family he’d found. Matt cried for the past, the lack of future, for the thought of being torn apart like Armitage and his Kylo, and for the fact it had taken until now to find something worth living for.

“Techie, I—”

Techie pressed a finger to Matt’s lips, following it with a kiss that tasted of tears. The message was clear.

There was no more left to say.


	8. The Other Side

Grey. 

Everything around Matt was grey.

Grey skies, grey clouds, grey ground. Grey mist that surrounded Matt, blocking all sound save that of his own heartbeat. He blinked, rising shakily to his feet. His head was fuzzy, memory only just trickling in as he started to walk. There was no one around save the lingering shadows of long-dead trees. There was no wind; the air was still, and Matt considered calling out into the blanket of fog. Although, he wondered, was there even anyone to hear him?

He was asleep, he supposed. The last thing he remembered was the soft murmur of Techie’s voice and the press of his lips to Matt’s forehead.

_“Just relax. Sleep.”_

A muffled sob.

_“I love you.”_

He’d drawn in a breath to answer, _needing_ to tell Techie he felt the same, but the world had slipped away. The words had died in Matt’s mouth, sleep overtaking him; leaving him in darkness.

Matt stood, an endless fog swirling about his bare legs, the curls of dampness cool against his skin. The point where Techie’s lips had touched was the one speck of warmth in an endless shadow sea. His vision was blurred, his glasses gone, leaving him blinking in the darkness, straining to see anything amidst the greyed-out landscape. He was naked, he realised, but only in an indistinct awareness of himself. It didn’t matter.

The ground was solid beneath the soles of his feet, one of the few things Matt could actually _feel_. There was no way of knowing if he was asleep, awake, or something in between. Black mist swirled before his eyes, and Matt breathed deep. He expected the scent of smoke or dampness, fire or water, but instead there was only the fresh smell of flowers floating on the almost imperceptible breeze.

Matt began walking, seeing nothing further than a few steps ahead. Clouds and shadows stretched in every direction but something, a deep instinctual certainty, drew him onwards. He couldn’t describe it, but he knew he was heading in the right direction. 

The further he walked, the colder the air seemed to become, icy and still. Matt inhaled, shivers rippling up his spine. His pace was slowing, and wrapping his arms around himself had no real effect. The darkness seemed to be rising like a tide around him, and Matt stopped, closing his eyes. Pressure was building in his head, pounding at the base of his skull. Matt raised his hand to his head, rubbing at his temples.

The point of Techie’s kiss met his palm, warm against his skin, and Matt blinked his eyes back open. A flurry of pale green sparks passed across his vision and the fog seemed to shrink back, retreating from the faint glow. Matt smiled to himself. Even here, Techie seemed to be taking care of him.

Breathing deep, Matt continued his walk. The landscape around him was shifting and changing. Tall shadows seemed to stretch and waver, splintering into silvery trees, limbs crossing overhead to fracture the grey blanket of clouds into jagged shards. In a way, he was reminded of the bookshop, twisting and turning, no way of telling where the next fork would lead. The force that had drawn him forward was fading and Matt glanced around, searching for anything that would show him his path.

He saw nothing save the empty trees and curling mist. It coiled around him, a spider-web caress on his skin. Matt pursed his lips, pushing on through the colourless world, his thoughts his only companion.

If this was death, Matt thought, it wasn’t so bad—a little dull perhaps, but nothing to be scared of. He passed through the trees, reaching out to scrape his fingers across the rough bark and watching as it dissolved into ash at the touch. It caught on the breeze, fluttering from Matt’s hand.

He was tiring again, every touch of fog seeming to sap his energy. Every tree looked the same: dry and grey and dead. Matt wondered if he was walking in circles. He wouldn't be surprised. Stopping to catch his breath, he leaned against another narrow trunk, stumbling as it, too, dissolved into nothingness.

Another gust caught at Matt’s hair, lifting the silvery ash from the ground and whisking it away in a stream that seemed to wind through the endless maze of trees. Matt followed, the mists parting as he passed. And there he saw it: the first spot of colour in the endless ocean of shadow.

It was a tree, smaller than the others and resolutely alive, blood-red berries clustered on pointed leaves. The grey shadows seemed to thin around it, the mist nothing more than wisps.

As Matt stepped beneath the spread branches, he felt a touch: the soft brush of a hand against his arm, though it was gone as soon as it came. He turned, seeing no one, yet certain there was something there. Warmth spread through him, a strength that filled his muscles with renewed vigour. He glanced upwards, seeing the leaves starting to fade, colour draining from the leaves, the scarlet spots of the berries flowing outwards in a ripple. His heart clenched with an all-too-familiar sorrow and he reached out, brushing the branches in farewell. 

He needed to keep going.

He walked on, noticing that the trees were starting to thin. The ground had shifted from grey to black and was softening beneath Matt’s feet, catching on his ankles and drawing him downwards. He gritted his teeth, hauling his legs up, striding against the sucking pressure, grateful for the energy boost the tree had given him.

Struggling to keep his balance, Matt stumbled, sinking almost to his knees in the sucking, tar-like mud. He breathed deep, pressing his fingers to the spot of warmth on his forehead. He was going to push forward; he was going to fix things.

Matt trudged, head bowed, for what felt like hours, thick black mud caking him up to the knees. When his heart seemed to waver and it seemed like too much, his hand found Techie’s kiss and he walked on. He wavered, caught between despair and determination, steadily marching onwards, until, finally, he was on solid ground once again.

There was grass around Matt now, faded and parched, wisps of grey-green that crunched beneath his soles. The land seemed to be rising in a single outcrop that pierced through the fog, and Matt scrambled on, hoping for some glimpse of the way forward.

Above the ocean of fog there was only black sky, a pool of shining ink that spilled across the horizon, not a single star in sight. Matt shuddered, uneasy. There was something disquieting about that completely blank sky; it pressed down on him, watching. He felt exposed, alone on the hilltop, stripped naked, with no idea where to go. The dark fog below offered no answers.

Dropping to his knees, Matt sat, uncertainty rippling through him. He trailed his fingers through the brittle blades of grass, hand closing on something round and soft.

It was a berry, Matt realised. Orange-red, with a star of black on the bottom. He rolled it between his fingers, spotting another a few paces away.

He felt it then: another phantom touch, shoving him to his feet. He rose, following the trail back down into the fog. It led him to another living tree, taller than the first. This one had feathered leaves and clusters of the berries that had led Matt towards it. The air was warming the closer he got, lightening his heart. As he passed under the sweeping boughs, the berries rained down upon him in a gentle patter, making him smile. He would keep going; he had to.

The pull was back, calling Matt forward. The grass beneath his feet was growing greener, new shoots reaching upwards despite the surrounding darkness. 

Matt could feel his heart pounding as the land seemed to spread out before him, rolling into a wide green field, dotted with white flowers. He didn’t need to look to know what they were.

Pure white petals nodded towards the grey earth as bright leaves spiked upwards. Matt swallowed, tears filling his eyes as he reached down to pluck one delicate snowdrop from the ground. He closed his eyes, breathing deep as a final gentle touch caressed his skin, soothing across his brow. Fingers twitching, the flower dropped back to the ground and Matt sighed.  
“I’m ready.”

The fog contracted, rising up, the blank nothingness of the sky seeming to bleed into it, streaking it with shadow. Matt opened his eyes, steeling himself.

Ahead of him the world seemed to be coalescing, the darkness intensifying into a solid mass that stretched and grew, red veins of fire threading their way through the void. It rose, looming above Matt, eyes a flickering flame. There was a crack and the rising smell of blood as the shadow hissed in a breath and spoke.

“I know you.”

Matt swallowed, tilting his head up to meet the burning pits that passed as eyes. “I know you too, Kylo.”

The fire dimmed, blaze to embers, the shrouded figure diminishing in an instant. The shadows thickened, tightening even closer until a human-like form was visible. An arm stretched out, unnaturally long across the gulf of space between them, and Matt fought the urge to squeeze his eyes shut. He wouldn’t be afraid.

Instead of pain there was a single touch, a long line that traced down his throat, stopping directly above Matt’s heart. The warm spot on Matt’s forehead seemed to pulse, a flicker of a heartbeat, and he willed himself to think of Techie; the sweet tired smile, the feel of his pulse beneath Matt’s hand, the silken slide of his hair on Matt’s chest. He glared into the scarlet fire to find a steady gaze meeting his own. 

And then the pain began.

It was fine, needle-like, an insistent scratch across the surface of his skin. Matt hissed in a breath as the sensation curved down his chest, tracing patterns across his skin. Blood welled up, beading and pooling, only to disappear as Kylo passed his hand over the cut. Matt could feel the heat draining from him, even as the shadows of Kylo’s body started to fade and dim. Only the point of Techie’s kiss stayed burning, a constant warmth in the darkness.

Before him Kylo stood, silent and steadily solid, shadow retreating from his skin. The fire died from his eyes and he blinked to show irises only slightly darker than Matt’s own. He shook back a mass of hair, the last of the darkness slipping like water from pale skin peppered with familiar moles. Kylo's entire form was shifting and shrinking until he stood barely taller than Matt. A deep scar cut down the right side of his face, trailing down his bare neck and shoulder, and Kylo raised a hand to trace down it, blinking at the sight of the unmarred skin on his own hand. Lips curving in a small smile, he spoke.

“Thank you.”

Matt shook his head slightly. “Don’t.” He held out his hand. “I’m Matt.”

“Matt.” Kylo moved tentatively, eyes widening as Matt grasped his hand. “I’m…human?”

“As far as I can see,” Matt said, with a weak smile. The blood still flowed from his chest, every trickle pulling a little more of him away.

Kylo was still subtly shifting, solidifying. 

“You have something of the Healer, Hux’s brother, with you” It wasn’t a question. Kylo tilted his head, peering intently at Matt’s face, searching for something. One of Matt’s moles bloomed into existence next to his nose and Matt fought the involuntary urge to giggle. Instead he rolled his shoulders, straightening his back to face Kylo’s scrutiny head-on.

“I didn’t bring anything with me. In case you hadn’t noticed, clothes don’t seem to be a thing in this world.”

“Maybe not intentionally, yet still”—Kylo’s gaze slipped over Matt—“there is something.” He sniffed the air, one hand still following the patterns on Matt’s chest, drawing the blood into himself somehow. “A scrap of soul perhaps? A whisper of his heart?” 

Matt could feel his strength draining, pulled towards the man before him. His sight was getting fuzzier, his legs wobbling as he fought to stay upright. His forehead pulsed and burned, and Kylo raised an eyebrow.

“Did you choose to sacrifice yourself? For him?”

Matt nodded; the cold whispered against his skin, moving inwards. It crept steadily through him and Matt knew that it was only a matter of time before it reached his heart. He felt a spark of triumph, though. The shadows would never have all of him; he’d left part of his heart with Techie.

“You are a strong man, my brother,” Kylo said, placing a hand on Matt’s shoulder, seeming to take some sort of thrill at the touch. He pushed aside a strand of hair, bringing his lips to the pulsing point of warmth on Matt’s forehead, a soft kiss that echoed the shape of Techie’s lips. “I’ll see you on the other side.”

Ice filled Matt’s veins, rushing through him in jagged shards that stabbed him from the inside out. He fell to his knees, fingers clenched in the grass, which faded beneath his touch.  
He was falling, blackness surrounding him, blotting out all senses, filling his mouth when he tried to scream. Matt’s mind whirled, thoughts splintering and fluttering away.

As the last of the light faded, he thought of only one thing.

His eyes were blue.


	9. The Future

_“They’re both here, how is that possible?”_

_“I don’t know, Armie. Did we do something wrong?”_

A groan. A gasp. A shuffle of movement. A new voice.

_“Hux?”_

_“Ren?”_

Silence. Shaking breaths.

_“Is it really you?”_ A tremor of uncertainty. _“You look a little different.”_

_“It’s me, Armitage. I’ve got the scars to prove it.”_

_“Kylo. I—”_

_“I’ve missed you.”_

A sob. A sigh. A breathless laugh. A whisper.

_“Don’t you dare let go, Kylo. I’ve waited far too long to hold you again.”_

A pause. A tremulous question that hung in the air:

_“What about Matt?”_

_“He’ll be fine. He just needs a minute.”_

A rush of air. A flash of colour. A veil of shadow. A moment looking back.

A future stretching forward.

Light bloomed in front of Matt’s eyes as he burst through the veil, surfacing through the glittering film of half-formed shadow. Clouded figures spun and danced dizzying spirals around him, making him blink, eyelids heavy. Cool air was starting to trickle into his lungs, a thin stream at first and then a sudden burst as Matt gasped and sat upright.

The shadows coalesced into blurs of sunset orange and midnight sky and Matt stretched his fingers out, scrabbling and searching across the dusty boards of the floor, seeking out his glasses as he always did upon waking.

Another gulp of air brought pain alongside it, a dull throb in Matt’s chest, and a glance downwards gave him his first blurry look at the mess that was his chest. Blood pooled, slow and sluggish, leaking from the delicate spirals and symbols carved into his skin. Matt winced, even that smallest of movements sending a lance of pain through him. His ears were filled with static, muffled nonsense that didn’t quite seem clear enough for words.

“Matt?”

He blinked, clouds rushing from his mind in a breeze of realisation. Yes, that’s right, he was Matt. He was cold. He was bleeding. He was... _alive_?

“Matt, can you hear us?”

A different voice this time, almost identical to the first: stern yet soft and somewhat choked with emotion. Head heavy, Matt nodded. He didn’t trust his lips not to babble and his tongue was too dry and swollen to form words. His eyes drooped, as heavy as his head, but still he nodded.

“I told you he’d be okay.”

This voice was new, yet somehow familiar: an echo, a memory, a dream perhaps? Matt moved to stand, lurching upwards and feeling hands on either side of him.

“You really should lie down a little longer.”

“He’s fine, Armitage. I told you he would be.”

“You only manifested five minutes ago, excuse me for wanting to be sure.”

“You haven’t changed a bit,” Kylo said, voice cracking as he took in a shaky breath. “I’ve missed you so much, my love.”

There was a shaky sob by Matt’s left side, and he smiled; this was good, he’d done something good. He’d fixed something far greater than his dad’s car had ever been, and despite the solid ache in his chest, he felt lighter than he had in a long, long while. He could feel the weight of a blanket being draped around his shoulders.

The familiar shape of his glasses was pressed into his hand and Matt slid them on instinctually.

Now everything was so much clearer.

Techie sat in front of him, eyes red and puffy, fingers twisted in the hem of his shirt, knuckles white, lower lip caught between his teeth. 

Armitage knelt at Matt’s left, a watery smile on his face. He had one arm under Matt’s shoulder, steadying him. His eyes shone with tears, but his gaze…

His gaze was fixed firmly on the man to Matt’s right, dressed in what looked like a tattered black robe. He bore most of Matt’s weight, propping him up as he struggled to sit upright. 

Kylo.

His face was familiar, a shadowed version of Matt’s own, all leaner lines and sharper angles, but his smile was identical. It was the same smile Matt was attempting now as he caught Techie’s eye.

“Hi there,” he said.

Techie sobbed, throwing his arms around Matt’s neck and pressing their lips together in a blazing kiss that brought all the remainder of Matt’s senses rushing back at once. This wasn’t the softly glowing ember that had protected him in the world of shadows; this was pure, brilliant sunlight that filled Matt from the inside out and sent fire rushing through his veins.

Techie’s lips pressed hard, and despite the fact he was mostly naked, propped up between Techie’s twin and—he supposed now—his own, Matt kissed back.  
Both their lips were chapped, and Techie’s hands trembled as he cupped Matt’s face. Matt was keenly aware of the fact that he was still bleeding and sore, not to mention the fact that he probably really needed to breathe soon.

Still, they kissed.

*****

“Blood magic,” Kylo said, a steaming mug between his hands. He tracked Armitage’s every movement around the the room, wary tension only seeming to leave him when he sat, a hand coming to rest on Kylo’s knee.

“Blood magic?” Techie glanced over his shoulder, hands held over Matt’s chest. “I thought only a life could bring back a life.”

Matt’s wounds were knitting together beneath the shimmering green mist, and he sat up on his elbows, attention fixed on Kylo.

“True, but intent means so much more.” He pointed to the scar that split his face, his other hand finding Armitage’s arm and rubbing across where Matt knew Armitage’s own scars were. “Our blood was taken by force. Matt gave his willingly.” Kylo looked from Matt to Techie, a small smile on his lips. “Blood given with love holds _far_ more life, far more power. I could feel it the moment he found me.”

“So, why did Matt take so much longer to come back?” Techie said, taking Matt’s hand and twining their fingers together.

Matt pursed his lips, shivering at the memory of cold. “I just needed a moment, to be sure of myself.”

Armitage curled on Kylo’s lap, abandoning the solemn self-image he’d put forth for so long. “Well, no wonder _you_ didn’t have a problem with that, my darling.”

Kylo only pulled him closer. “Armitage, I have spent so long trying to find a way back to you. I wasn’t going to waste another second.” He tilted Armitage’s chin up and brought their lips together in a soft kiss.

Matt smiled to himself as Techie politely turned away, squeezing at Matt’s hand. “So,” he said, “where do we go from here?”

“Well”—Matt considered for a moment—“we could go back to my place, let Kylo and Armitage catch up. You can go outside without getting sick now, can’t you?”  
Techie’s eyes widened, smile brightening his face. “You’re right! I can go anywhere. _We_ can go anywhere.” He wrapped his arms around Matt completely, nuzzling against the swirled scars on his chest.

“I forgot to tell you something before you sent me to sleep, you know,” Matt said, pressing his lips against the soft silk of Techie’s hair.

“Hmm? What’s that then?”

“I love you, too.”

Techie’s breath seemed to catch and his eyes swam. He pursed his lips together in an effort to stop the tears from falling, fingers clenching tight on Matt’s arm.   
Matt simply kissed across his eyelids, noting that now it was Armitage who was politely averting his gaze. “Maybe we should stay here tonight,” he said. “I can get to know my new brother a little.”

Kylo nodded. “I’ve got a lot to learn, too.” His dark eyes were wide and curious as he gazed out the window of the flat, taking in the town outside. “What’s this world like, Armitage?”

“Ah, it’s not too bad,” Armitage said with a smile, his arm slung around Kylo’s shoulders. “Better now you’re in it. We honestly thought it was pretty terrible at first, but there are some good people: Matt, for one.”

Stroking Techie’s hair, Matt met Armitage’s eyes. “Thanks, Armie.” He smiled, and Kylo tilted his head. 

“So, Matt, how exactly did you come to be a part of all this?”

Matt paused for a moment, watching Millicent circle the room, sniffing at each man in turn before hopping onto the windowsill, purrs rumbling through the room. “Well,” he began, “it all started with my dad’s car…”

*****

Matt pulled open the doors to the garage and breathed in the scent of sawdust. The sun was beating down on the back of his neck, and he smiled, casting an eye over the baskets that hung on either side of the door, overflowing with brightly coloured spring flowers.

Stretching out his arms, Matt sighed. It had been a good day. Work had been a breeze, despite the fact he’d had an angry customer. It was tempting, sometimes, to let his own anger burst out in retaliation, but he’d been working on that.

It had only taken a few years, but Matt was finally following his dad’s advice. His therapist, Phasma, was nothing like Matt had expected, firm yet understanding, gently encouraging Matt to talk about the guilt he’d bottled up for so long, and not in the slightest bit hesitant to call him out when he started making excuses for himself. It was tough, but Matt was making progress. Phasma was pleased with him, and, more importantly, he was pleased with himself.

Tugging at the dust sheet, Matt unveiled the Capri, glasses smudging as he did. The paintwork shone, the windows were clear, and not a speck of dust marred the surface. He pulled his glasses off, rubbing them against his shirt, smirking slightly to himself as a memory swam through his head.

Kylo and Armitage had been arguing. Not a proper argument; bickering would be a better description. Kylo’s eyesight had deteriorated slightly since he’d returned and no matter how much Armitage insisted, he refused to get glasses.

“Look, Matt needs glasses, so that means _you_ need glasses. Stop squinting at everything and go get them checked.”

“I’m fine, stop fussing.”

Matt had watched the same exchange for days, even offering to go with Kylo and get checked out together. He seemed far more comfortable with new experiences when Matt was there to play the brother card. Still, though, he was refusing, choosing instead to illuminate his reading with a handful of scarlet flames, a practice which had Armitage fuming.

“I swear, Kylo, if you set fire to my shop I _will_ send you back.”

“No, you won’t. You love me.”

“Well...yes, although for the life of me I can’t think why right now.”

“Maybe I should remind you.”

Every argument ended the same way, with Matt rolling his eyes at his ridiculous family and smiling to himself, glad of their happiness.

He slid his glasses back on, unlocking the car and sliding into the front seat. He adjusted the mirror, taking a moment to peer at himself. The curls of his hair still stuck out every which way, and he smoothed them down, knowing that the instant he saw Techie they’d only be ruffled up again.

Since the night of Kylo’s arrival, Techie had been returning steadily to health, and now, with summer about to begin, he was blooming as brightly as the flowers he loved so much. Every day he seemed to grow a little brighter, and every day Matt loved him more.

He glanced over his shoulder, checking the garage for a moment, taking in his father’s tools. He’d tidy them away later; he and Techie would be returning home that night after their drive.

Looking back he saw a flash of grey, and that was fine. Grey was a colour, too; he wasn’t going to ignore it. It was part of life. Everyone had grey days sometimes, and that was okay.

Looking ahead, though, the sun was high, the sky was blue.

Matt turned the ignition, and smiled.


End file.
